the waiting

the waiting creeps up from feet, passes hips, submerges wrists in slippery uncertainty naturally, the ear strains to catch the subtle shift of air that marks departure no one ever sings through the smoke of staying - love and smoke both only ever go sometimes you get so caught up in the leaving, all kisses … Continue reading the waiting

this is how

this is how things end then - with dancing, and a ruined heart unexpected and yet somehow not, since this is you afterall this is an emptiness that cannot redeem itself with waiting but I've grown used to thorns, have almost forgotten the fireflies, have known always that the flames could be turned to strike … Continue reading this is how


seems every corner these days, yellow reluctance hangs from the trees but can you maybe see the small promise in the perchance-forgetfulness of coming wintry rimes where we might biding sleep 'til wakened by warmer times © Sarah Whiteley


after a poem by Ono no Komachi too soon the bloom has slipped from the stem - a light lost over the deepening sill of evening and back and forth, the beads are slipped slowly down the thread while I wait with the rain