the betweens

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more familiar
with the betweens
than with the origins
and destinations

and that, I suppose,
is the nature
of the journey we take –

a conglomeration
of moments framed
by first and last breaths,

by the hopeful fogs
of tomorrow’s mornings
and the dry silences
of last year’s gardens

© Sarah Whiteley

the afternoon after


the afternoon after
arranges itself –

black limbs,
off-white shroud,

the dark of the damp
on the interrupted grain

of the bench end
where I’ve settled

for solitude,
for seeking the green

among the gray
the afternoon after

© Sarah Whiteley