Not a stitch to wear
nor anyone to love me;
injured and damaged.
by Scooj
Not a stitch to wear
nor anyone to love me;
injured and damaged.
by Scooj
I long for the spring
the lengthening of the days
and the warming sun.
by Scooj
Baccy tin open
in front of her cold crossed legs
shelter for small coins.
by Scooj
Unusual sound
baby cries in the office
to mixed reactions
a human reminder in
a sterile environment.
by Scooj
Northern hemisphere
writers scribble winter thoughts;
its sunny down south.
by Scooj
Fast failing eyesight
depressing, irritating,
debilitating.
by Scooj
The sound of butter
melting on searing hot toast
my sal(i)vation.
by Scooj
Christmas notes sprinkled
filling every room with sound
teenage excitement.
by Scooj
Something magical
when a dog looks at the stars
in complete darkness
does he share my sense of awe,
feel our insignificance?
by Scooj
A clatter of cans
bottles clink, plastic crackles
and the food waste hums.
by Scooj