Inexperience
 
I used to think
they were something else,
 
and maybe
like you and I
 
they might have been
with more foresight
 
but these cooling
towers
 
folded in
on themselves
 
like a soft clay pot
collapsing on a wheel.
 
Anarchy

is all those words
for which
we cannot give
a precise
definition
but use
anyway.

Erasure
 


writing
 
our aim
is to keep
the forest intact
but as we explore
more and more
trees are lost

 
Light
 
A gentle
pitter-patter
and a few flies
caught
in the evening light.

Out-of-body Experience
 
And now I wait
for the hiatus
between my recovery’s
taking off and landing
to be sown up,
but fear the land route below
rupturing through.

Tristan Moss


If you have any thoughts about this poem, Tristan Moss  would be pleased to hear them