Catrina Conway
an early winter morning
the car outside my house won’t leave;
the engine drones on all night,
the snow floats by so carelessly;
glistening in the light,
wild swans wake me up at dawn;
and tell me where to go,
somewhere far away from here
somewhere it doesn’t snow,
and my heart reflects the words it hears
although they are not mine,
my bones feel empty from the cold,
trees of needlewood and pine,
and the colours of the season
are so lively and so gold,
but i’m here searching for a poet
to tell me i’m not yet too old!
love letter to the moon
i look into the sky and wonder;
where are you moon?
where are you my dear friend?
will i see you soon?
there’s nothing but grey
staring back at me
like a cold unkind force
of darkened gravity,
but then you peek out
from behind some foggy mist
‘there you are!’ i smile
your cool light a gentle kiss;
and i think of all the souls
who are looking at you now
all wondering the same thing
in their lonesome little towns
creatures of the night we are
fighting the urge to sleep
because we all want something more
something we cannot keep,
i’ve wished upon the stars
too many to even count
i don’t believe i’ll ever
be old enough to doubt
that you will always be there
for my heavy, sleepy eyes
to gaze upon in wonder
at the midnight sky,
and i wish i could let you know
how i really feel
but you’re so far away from me
are you even real?