Lynette Hazel

Always thinking that there'd be time.
We'd surely have enough tomorrows promised.

The grave is now so cold, final, unforgiving.
...

My pen stutters
as I gr-
ope(n) towards
words and
...

I GOD
In the beginning man walked with God
knew our place
in this space
...

Wine-dark my mood
Yearning to savour your hand in the small of my back
Listening with more than eyes
Drinking in your rationed presence
...

1986 -
house burns
love turns
from childish expectations
...

The weight of the 8
soon falling into 80
tomorrow will never come
forever is today
...

The soul of a poet tethered to exigencies.
Yearning for deliverance,
Seeking absolution.
A soul in shackles,
...

The year slid from month to month.
It did not acknowledge my pain and fear.
As I envisaged mould and worms conquering her
Gorgeous liquid amber eyes,
...

Which perspective yields me?
Wife, daughter, mother, friend?
Lover, enemy, employee,
Which holds veritas
...

It's a bitter pill that rails and snakes and erodes from the inside,
Robs the ability to love, confidence, even hope.
Give me something to ease this pain,
shame,
...

Content to remain annelid,
I trawl the constellated spaces of others
to somewhere find,
rediscover somehow,
...

Eyes wide shut, night after enervating night
Haunted by the constant spectre that
Footsteps fade in water.
The mouse roars to the jungle
...