Places  / Times


Lost in the forest darkness
Well south of cancer and north of capricorn
in the hot wet jungles of the equatorial zone
orchids without perfume and scentless fungi form.
Close your eyes and breathe the humid decay;
exotic rot mingles with sweat in this heart of darkness
overpowering all other senses, sapping the will to move.
This is no place for thinking .


Brown froth rolls over and lodges itself between
decaying seaweed on the  muddied sand;
the conical shells of the seasnails pause
for the next tide to roll and rouse them.
Sit on the upturned boat and breathe salt air,
watch  the soldier crabs as  they venture out
clicking their way amongst the beach detritus.
This is a place for waiting.


The swell of sandhills, smooth as golden breasts
sweeps  onwards and on until true vision fails
dazzled by light and heat with no speck of green,
only diamond glitter flickering through the haze.
Take up a handful of the heated sand,
trickle it like an hourglass through the fingers.
leave myriad grains uncounted as they fall.
This is no place for pausing.


Untrodden and unmarked, the pristine snow
mounds crystalline along the shining slopes
changing but little under the gusting winds,
swept clear and set hard by their firm caresses.
Flatten a circle round your slowing body,
sink to the surface slowly with a sigh.
Your breath congeals too soon in the freezing air,
plumes outward, downward, until it disappears.
This is a place of ceasing.