Heavy Threads by Hazel Hall

When the dawn unfolds like a bolt of ribbon Thrown through my window, I know that hours of light Are about to thrust themselves into me Like omnivorous needles into listless cloth, Threaded with the heavy colours of the sun. They seem altogether too eager, To...

The Patience of Ordinary Things

It is a kind of love, is it not? How the cup holds the tea, How the chair stands sturdy and foursquare, How the floor receives the bottoms of shoes Or toes. How soles of feet know Where they’re supposed to be. I’ve been thinking about the patience Of ordinary...