Friday, 9 December 2016

Aftermath


The telling has no place here
this place is green from the rain
nothing gagged and nothing bit down
he convinced me to tell he does not know my name

there is no turning back

Thursday, 8 December 2016

After the war


“You cannot attempt the passage again,” the King said.  “We have reason to fear it could kill you.  You must stay in the Exterior.”

“But-”

“You are needed here.  This is where you belong."  

There was a long pause in which Kitty struggled violently with herself.  Not until the King insisted, “Kitty, please,” did she whisper, “All right.”

“Thank you.  It is for the best.”

Kitty wasn’t so sure about that.  But just as she meant to tell him all of the things she’d been holding back for years now, another blurry form appeared in the room.  “Leo!” Kitty exclaimed.   “I'm so glad to see you!”

“And you, Miss Katharine," the King's guard answered.  "I am grateful you are well.”

“You weren’t hurt in the battle, were you?”

“No, indeed not," he assured her, and took a step closer.  "I hope you will not think me too forward, Miss Katharine, but there is something I wish to say to you.”

Kitty waited expectantly.

“Come back with us.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Come back with us,” Leo repeated.  “You belong in our world as much as you belong here.”

Kitty looked over at the King, but he remained silent.  Leo could not know what the King had just told Kitty.

“There is no need for you to stay in this world,” Leo continued.  “You would miss nothing.  Your mother is beyond your reach, and your brother is resilient.  They would tolerate your loss much better than we here who know you would.”

Kitty thought of how her mother had sobbed after her father and brother died, and of how frightened Jack had been when Kitty disappeared a year ago.   “I don’t know if that’s true,” she said carefully.   “But even if it is, I think I should stay here.”

“In our world you would be adored.”

With a faint smile Kitty replied, "I don’t really have the right temperament to be adored.  But thank you very much for the offer.”

*From my upcoming YA novel, A Window to the World

Tuesday, 6 December 2016

Midnight




Where will the night train take me?

So many trains
all leading to distant December destinations
crammed full of strangers breathing
clouds against the windows’ glass
as they exhale their expectations

            Convinced we knew the future from what was
            afraid to confront the past in
            what we had
            become

But for the desperate promise to find a summer unknown
we dismantled the track that would lead us back
home

            No one remembered the snowstorm in
            the mountains
            how we yearned to crash
            to ride this shivering disappointment
            right down to its
            final gasp

When all aboard ride the night train alone
mark the passing of the time with the
falling of the
snow
No use in unpacking for tomorrow    
tomorrow is a thousand midnight
dreams of color
away

            Engines powered by
            frost-covered anticipation
            the eternal steel of millions of tracks
            rusting into the most elusive of
            destinations

only to find ourselves here once again

Where will the night train take me?
this I learned never to ask
            not with so many trains all
            vacating this station
            with so many tracks, less one, left for me—

            the one you have taken


Friday, 2 December 2016

Darkness


huddled in a corner
hunted by sun
too much for the moon
to overcome

Thursday, 1 December 2016

Yesterday and yesterday


She has a memory.  One beautiful memory.  Carefully held in the palm of her hands, so that no one else might find it and steal it.  She must leave it nowhere.  It must always remain with her.  The memory of that one summer morning, while they still slept.  The pavement of the driveway cool on her bare feet as she stepped into the shadow cast by the huge Mountain Ash in the front yard, the sun burning golden at the edges.  No one must have this moment.  This moment must never be touched.

Because she must hold it so close and so carefully, she cannot hold onto any others.  She lets the pictures framed in broken glass fall through her fingers.  There must only be one world.  One world, underneath the tree, where no one else exists.  Let the others sleep.  Let them all sleep.  She is a girl standing in the shadow of a golden halo.  She must never step out.  She must live here forever.

Shadows


I shivered, walked past the knives
only to be stabbed a thousand more times

Tuesday, 29 November 2016

Atomic rage


I surrendered my travel book centuries ago
burned the forest where you were 
my favorite tree
You are the reality I cannot close in on 
the dream mistook for 
permanency