Wind down

In the thunderclap

she hears her name.

 

Last one in,

the moth enters

before the door closes.

 

Silence unlike the charity dinner

there- selfies first.

 

Deciding where to land

her brown curls,

flow down.

 

She combs her hair,

the length of a girls dream.

The cave man

He was a clever caveman. The fire would keep the cold away. No predator would come close while it was still lit. He’d stored up all the wood he could find to stay warm.

It was a hard days work, made harder by the winter that he knew would soon catch up with him. The trees had lost their leaves, the caves and burrows had new residents and the earth above seemed empty. His footprints were the only ones for miles. He drew his furs closer while looking at how far back his trail seemed to lead.

Fire wasn’t the only thing that warmed him. The grassy plains and clear sky he’d seen made him feel the same way. But that was long ago in a distant past. The memory seemed to grow colder with every fire he lit. The sky above was dark and littered with rain clouds. All around him was white snow, nothing like the plains he knew.

Staring into his bonfire it was hard to explain. Why did he decide to walk the way of the nomad? The fire had lit up the dark cave of emptiness and  purposelessness the same way it lit up the night. He was smart. He felt the coldness inside. He lent in closer to reach the warmth. Ouch!

Right to the end

I walked through a graveyard with a friend and saw a man in black standing by a gravestone. He’d move around but he was always facing the gravestone. He’d smile and cry but really his eyes looked dead.

My friend said “He waits by his grave”. I was afraid and walked faster till I saw more people standing by gravestones.

“They are standing guard” she said. I walked faster and further through the crowd, that now had all kinds of people, waiting by their deaths.

I walked till I left my friend behind at her grave and reached my own.