Erika Coetzee

Night winds remind me of the time

It tasted like a potion boiled from yesterdays
bonfire burning green in my self garden
licking at the edges of familiar
casting me no clue

It hurricaned my dreams and rattled shutters
under lids that hid abandon in their close
Dark questions still hang skies in my precaution
shining me no star

Disquiet dances free across my wish lands
past excuses growing old around the waist
Time runs out for all and every virtually
hiding me no grace

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