sunday morning and the berg wind blows

this weather undoes me.
skin unzipped by air as warm as blood
thick pulsing with desert journeys
it does not speak my boundaries.
it is boundless karoo skies
that sing below my sternum.
somewhere days ago
part of me rushed mountain ranges
gathered buchu stink and
pelargonium in my hair
that became restio and dune-grass
pushing for the blistering shore.
if i had tympanic temples
that could pull membrane tight,
taste air pressure on my
flicking adders tongue
i would be waiting for your fingers
to drum across my being
ready for thunder
that will come pouring
across folded limb
and hip curve hills
new learning
their name.


WhatsApp Image 2017-04-09 at 20.07.16
Drawing by Tim Hewitt-Coleman

3 thoughts on “sunday morning and the berg wind blows

    1. thank you – my brother and i (we live in different cities) took on napowrimo together. i write in the morning – send him a poem – he draws and then sends it back in the evening. it has been a very interesting and rewarding collaboration.

      Liked by 1 person

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