3/1/08:
In the monsoon rains
the river is high and fast
and rising, rising ...
11/1/08:
In my dark garden
wind chimes clang faintly, I breathe
the smell of the sea.
18/1/08:
It's still raining here.
No word from my friend far south
in the hospital.
No word from the one
who went into the desert.
The rain settles in.
25/1/08:
The river's flood-brown.
The wind is chill this summer
and sounds like sobbing.
******
When death comes ...
You should be sleeping.
Perhaps you should be alone.
But should you be young?
(A response to the news of Heath Ledger's passing.)
© Rosemary Nissen-Wade 2008
