After a couple of days of torrential rain…


 
Jan made a trip down to Coffs Harbour
yesterday to see her accountant.

So we caught up for a coffee and dog walk
where the ocean and the creek meet.

by Rebecca L. Atherton


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Amateurs


 
Dinner last night
was full of dramatics:

my dog wouldn’t eat
because of her leg,

my partner passed out
because of his head

and my sister
got a lap full of soup.

by Rebecca L. Atherton

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Last Night…

Last night,
the moon was back outside my window
after a week away –
body bloated and milk-white.

Tonight,
the clouds are thick and heavy
and I cannot see her face.

I imagine her perfectly round
and pregnant,
like a splash of batter
or a drop of cream.

By Rebecca L. Atherton

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Comfortable & @ Peace


 
 
Clean and unpolluted,
white is without pressure:
it does not exert
or seek to detract.

Rather,
it simply sits:
comfortable
and at peace.

by Rebecca L. Atherton
 


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Prayer Work


 
Sometimes…

writing a poem
in your head

and then releasing
it unremembered

is the bravest thing you can do.

By Rebecca L. Atherton

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Rapunzel


 
From my vantage point
I survey the landscape.

A dog goads a child
and a man takes out the rubbish.

The sun dips
and the air bites.

by Rebecca L. Atherton

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Cold, dead and dark.

I sew with limited visibility, trusting that my thread will be led the old-fashioned way by the abundance of natural flame dancing before me in an old jar, long shadows flickering across the table’s surface like spiders legs and winter branches or ageing crone feet.

Icy; cold: it makes for poor physical company, channelling chills into my palms and fingers, up my arms and into my head and neck each time I let my limbs connect. Like my mother with her carefully painted face and colour-coded outfits: it’s all for show. Behind the veil, inside, it’s a different story: cold, dead and dark.

by Rebecca L. Atherton


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Rabbit Holes


 
Uncanny
how a minor deviation
expands,

the desire to find a link
check a word
confirm a phrase

s t r e t c h i n g
until it becomes a map-less journey
of useless escapades.

by Rebeca L. Atherton


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SAD / sad /


 
1. Sad: a word, a whisper, my body throwing out distant echoes from within.
2. Sad: a baby crying, a lonely heart, an abandoned daughter.
3. Sad: a despondent mind and spirit, a thing of little worth; a dull, somber colour.
4. S.A.D: a mental disorder; depressive episodes during certain times of the year.

Feelings, thoughts, emotions…
All individual, independent, truth.

Another line.
Another journey.
More fabric touched.

by Rebeca L. Atherton


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Grrr… 


 
My boyfriend is like an angry dog.

Sometimes,this is useful…

by Rebeca L. Atherton


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