SKYLINES 7

and a misshapen platform to land on

the lightest touch

  heart tremble


  Michele Elliot 

The moon wanes stars fade

I’m convinced I am on track

find my ankles swathed in stripped bark

resort to torchlight find my bearings

I have roamed westward pulled up before

ploughing into a broadening eucalypt

I right wheel and a Froglet

risks a leap across my path

and even tonight with

the new moon surprisingly golden

stars rampant in all directions

singing me from dark to dark

still I cannot read the sky


Lizz Murphy