The Mortality of Trees

Your tarnished skin crinkles in the breeze, an ancient husk that juts from the Earth like a withered question mark; interrogating the exuberance that stirs

Moonlight Pollination

Beneath Diana’s pale embrace, two moths shimmer in the starlight; waltzing through moonbeams, as they flicker across the cool embrace of noon’s forgotten corsage. Suffused

Rising Marshes

Choking on the excessive vapours Of our abandoned debauchery Your stunted shoots flail awkwardly In artificial chambers of soil and sedge. Your weathered hands Fly

Glowing Green

Breathe in. Your crown of precious hues Glimmers in the setting sun; A steadfast declaration that Your appearance will not be Ordained by the passing

Preserved in Ice

You struggle for breath. And reach towards the sun With yellowed fingertips; Stunted roots Can no longer drink The static water that was Once a

Rooting for Water

Beneath the dusty soil and arid earth Your tentacles branch outwards; Driven by an unseen architect To create multifaceted monoliths Of gnarly twine and knotted

A Deficit in Spring

With rising heat, the Earth begins to bloom, The emerald hues a fervent sign of spring; And every breath of air that’s taken in, A

Remote Consequences

Amongst the icy peaks and stony seas, We count the plants that call such heights a home; Traversing every sudden gale and breeze, To better

Go and Plant a Tree

Plant a tree Go Barbados and plant A palm tree Turn the water off Drink booze Take a shower with Someone else Take a shower

A Twisted Knot

Ornate and prized as something grand, We didn’t know what you had planned; The warning signs we did not heed, You suffocate us with your