Old wind, dark waters, sky dreams of ancient voices, sides of a shadow
leaping out, spirits watching.
Rode across the sky, folding shadows.
Pitted across the setting sun, Hindi death, joyous celebration, children
hugged, her body smeared with cold ash, long repetitive songs.
Sun disappeared, lost into another life, wind, space.
* * * * *
Dennis Thomas is an Australian poet who resides in Canberra. His work has appeared in The Lost Words, and The South Townsville micro poetry journal. He is currently preparing his fourth collection. His contributions to Dr. Hurley’s Snake-Oil Cure can be found here.