This Forgotten Place
Where lost and restless souls
come to paint themselves
Ochre, the red centre
and dance under a silent star
Sun Worship
Draws out the poison
We, the parchment
Elemental
Reuse, rebuild – and wait
Until air thick, pregnant
a scent on the wind
the rain is coming –
Pours like holy water
Over sin
The earth’s skin
We re-hydrate
Fill out our limbs
and soak the brain
Water becomes
Uncounted, without passing
The change.