Photograph by Grace Fowler. Copyright Grace Fowler, May 2015.
Nocturning
The third room along
is not content to house
our discards
the hand-me-down
stuffed bunnies and patchwork
quilt squares left
from mother
Our rooms become
the girls, the girls
we closeted
coveted,
the floor-spaces close
with paperbacks spread open
like brooding birds
or shoes
like empty nests
The third room along,
the hallway
bicycles grow
plucked from vacant destinations
ambulated home
ginger as a schoolgirl
cupping a wounded sparrow
Our rooms become
the neighbours
doused of light
flames turned in
our dreams congregating
dust bunnies
at the skirting
The third room along
a glow beneath
the door leaks
into the night
We thought we'd put it out
By Reka Jellema & Brendan Bonsack
Copyright May 2015
The third room along
is not content to house
our discards
the hand-me-down
stuffed bunnies and patchwork
quilt squares left
from mother
Our rooms become
the girls, the girls
we closeted
coveted,
the floor-spaces close
with paperbacks spread open
like brooding birds
or shoes
like empty nests
The third room along,
the hallway
bicycles grow
plucked from vacant destinations
ambulated home
ginger as a schoolgirl
cupping a wounded sparrow
Our rooms become
the neighbours
doused of light
flames turned in
our dreams congregating
dust bunnies
at the skirting
The third room along
a glow beneath
the door leaks
into the night
We thought we'd put it out
By Reka Jellema & Brendan Bonsack
Copyright May 2015
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