Anger
The Drops That Dripped
I stepped outside,
Felt the slap of winter’s
Icy breath
And stood beneath
The rain-soaked pines
Drops dripped
I looked up, fists clenched
And felt a wet ceiling above
A great ice wall betwixt me
And the sky
Unleashing and spitting upon me
Drops dripped
The Lord had taken my joy
I said
Had swept my feet from under
Like a scythe at harvest
My precious things in their
Full bloom,
Their life and blood on the earth
Drops dripped
The days passed and still
I stood
My fists curled against
The wine-dark sky
Clenched jaw turned to
Moistened eyes
Weeping
Out of Time: Four
4
I fell silent as we stepped off the pavement, out of the cold, and into the chip shop. I wrinkled my nose as feeling returned to it, inhaling the delicious smell of salt and vinegar. We crossed the black-and-white-checkered floor between the rows of two booths on each side.
In I way, I think our order of coping chips was to stall the actual coping. Even the much-pierced girl behind the counter must have sensed the discomfort between us.
Out of Time: One
1
Do you see that man walking down the street? No, the other one, from whom your eyes naturally pull away. Hard to focus on, isn’t he?
In My Father's House
In my Father's house are many rooms. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you?
“And a one, two, three, four… off you go.”
