They observe,
from the sidelines
behind human boundaries
mutely.
Ghosts of past,
felled by hunters,
now shed skins, peeling,
naturally.
Wheels pass by,
not unlike time,
in twos, threes, and sixes—
boundless.
Fiercely defiant,
owners of the land,
masked in ashen white—
eucalypti.
Note: Eucalypus, or gum trees, are beautiful trees to stare at. They’re endemic to south-eastern Australia, where I now live.
Big sister, tulip,
shoved aside in a rose world
too plain to notice
Peering through darkness
as the eye of a tiger
observant, the moon
She slaps me in the face,
full and forceful.
I don’t turn away.
For the first time in a long time,
I don’t cower
like a homeless house rat
at the hunger of a cat.
My fingers don’t fumble
no shiver down my spine,
like a book lover
caressing a binder.
Instead, I smile.
My hair leaps from its pedestal,
tickling my nose.
I sniff as it goes.
For every slap in the face,
I shower back smiles.
Warm spring breeze.
While skies siphon blues
springing up in September
suckling buds of May
The Chaos Within 