Masquerading as rocks
When all the world became still
like a dog sick with mange
scratching a zillion fleas
Houdini-trained and unreachable
your teeth chattered in the sun.
When nothing could warm you up
your hopes became crocodiles
that clamped the flesh of your dreams in their jaws
until they tumbled from pylons
to plunge into the river
and you, being way beyond shock
were the only one who could see them.
Their eyes and ears faced the sky
to mirror your own inertia
masquerading as rocks
while I was on the hill planting seeds
sunflowers among buttercups.
You thought that nobody saw you
and no-one even cared
but then at sunset the thrush sang and something in you
stirred after aeons of being locked in.
The heat spread through your body like delicate climbing tendrils
and when the fire sun melted at the liquid edge of night
the crocs opened their mouths,
your dreams became fireflies,
and you knew peace.
So keep inhaling the future
and know that the flying sparks
won’t always perform acrobatics;
we’re fading, just like stars
swaying in the breeze, like flowers.
You fell down
You’re alive
I see you.
© Kathryn M Crowley 2025. Email me to seek permission to share my writing or images.
