Climbing to reach you, I stumble, and falling

scrape my limbs amid the brambles

but when you ask, why do you bleed?

I am speechless

and savour the silence

Settling on this damp dark rock

a dusty sun sinks behind flights of flying foxes

Stars rise

hanging like baubles on bare branches

beseeching limbs of boab trees

begging reprieve from their prince

blue since they fell

from Asteroid B612 – blue

as satellites –blue

as the moon

(c) Mary Tang 2015

About Mary Tang

An urban orchardist everyday, a volunteer regularly, a poet sometimes and a blogger since March 2015. I travel when I can. Food is a constant.
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