Poem 1 (27/08/26)

Softly,

Green shoots appear on sleeping granite.

Fern spirals smaller than your fingertip

Thriving on ruin.

Swallows chat and swarm in rays,

The sun’s new age haze,

Homing in the fallen roof.

You are naked again.

Water on your skin like dew on grass.

There is too much drought to drown.