Suzy Jay

Its not Monday anymore
The winds came and lifted
the sheets higher and farther
than the stretch of my fingers.
...

Nothing is tangible

Moments are mists over rivers
fast flowing downstream.
...

'You are my Socrates, '
you said
whilst blinded in obscurity
and running from nowhere.
...

If you sit and think of larks
waters rise and take you
bobbing to other shores
of daffodils in blue haze
...

Tonight the snows came again.
There was a silence. Muted, hung.
As if the moment was waiting
for a crack in the clouds
...

An iron door opens inwards
leaving behind an antartica of white cloud
untrodden, ethereal.
I walk out and onwards
...

I wait the morning.
The light that robs me of night.
Its stealth, creeping uphill,
entering private space
...

Sometimes when I breath
I am the Indian Ocean.
Far away and fathomless
silent and numb
...