Ron Moss, TZ and Sheila Windsor, Uk


blush of fire by Ron Moss

cracks the heat


a shimmer of frost on the pumpkin
candlelit gaze the peaks of her strawberry desert
runes warning me not to look back
stepping into the coach his top hat slivers black rain
hoof prints along the shore each crescent moon
with inky fingers she fumbles a cigarette from the detective
iron bars no holding the howl of the wind
horizon a starboard tack slices the setting sun
behind the flashbulb smile scars
city garden the flicker of pansy petals
cabbage whites rest where the names are all but gone
old fisherman how sprightly he walks with the biggest catch
cavern in your darkness we seek a time gone by
a pirate's laugh the stuffed parrot winks a plastic eye
silver ghost the roll and crunch of wheels on gravel
saffron night a hooker counting notes
'. . . sweet chariot' sparkle of rain in the floodlights
a stockman's whip cracks the heat from a desert sky
orion lost in window mist
old homestead the arc of pick through cold air
a newborn cry finds the nipple
spilt sulphur the science teacher doodles with glass
dracula's smile widens the creak of a blood red door
underground cubby house the smell of a kerosene lamp
devilled chicken the ice in my gin melts
psychedelic christmas lights a possum trips
antiques and flea market inside the rag doll something stirs
young love moths flutter against the window glass
the organist's repertoire exhausted still no sign of the bride
fatal car crash a year later his paint brushes for sale
sweeping leaves cheeks a match for the maple
fashion show her thin manikin body slips out of style
first snow one set of footprints to the post box and back
coming home a wisteria blooms inside her tears
first light a wallaby sniffs the air
so close we briefly touched the blush of mars



to top of page




Copyright (c) 2007 Sketchbook and  All rights reserved.