Through the stillness of the breath
Air so soft you can taste it on your skin
The crow calls slicing through the years.

Morning awakens shrouded in fog
Grey fades into grey on grey
The light behind my eyes shines bright.

The commuter train home
Or at least for now the station waiting
I catch myself staring blankly
Just another day of false panics
Not trusted with the truth as it happens.

Taking heart in art
Drinking tea in the sunshine
Sundays do not last forever.

Rainbow lorikeets feasting on my crumbs
Pigeons, mickys and even Ivan comes
Being stared down by beady glass eyes
Talking no more lies and telling myself truths.