John Champion

He should never have allowed the stop at the oasis.
But his people were restless. It looked safe enough.
Another caravan was there.
...

The forest creaks
Branches weighed down by snow
Ice crackling
Breath steaming
...

The taxi carries me through the sun drowned streets
Between the towers of concrete and glass and metal
I barely notice the noise of the engine and the traffic
Dust and fumes hang languidly above the tarmac
...

No one prepared you for the pace of life
Today you play in the sun and tomorrow is a dream
All of your todays stretching forward away
Don’t think about the past keep moving forward
...

Scattered petals drifting on the water
stars reflected in the rippling surface
musk of frangepani thickening the air
leafy boughs rustling as they shift in gentle breeze
...

1. the silence
(out of which the words rise
like grey palls
and to which the words return)
...

The agent works unknown
behind enemy lines
He has lived there for as long as he can remember.
He no longer remembers his mission.
...

Twenty years is a long time
To be coming home.
Seven years of it
Under your spell
...

Finish the night and come into the day
The clouds drift emptily across the sky
A light breeze stirs the new leaves
Birds sing to each other cautiously
...

you know the place?
i do not believe in the decoration.
it hurts my eyes
the darkness helps
...

when we were boys
i told you we were sane
but that the madness was coming
...

I am in a boat
it is heading east
four-fifty PM
light of sun
...