Stories

A jealous sorcerer

creates a spider from knives

and splintered dining chairs,

sends it off to find the handsome lad

who made love to his daughter.

A little girl sitting in a parked car

waiting for her mother

until the heat of the day

pulls half a pint of whispers from her,

makes a thunderhead

to drown a city.

These are the threads we must weave

into stories.

This house withstood a wartime bomb

but could be destroyed

by a yawning child.

The fireside trembles.

Sometimes in our dreams

we open a parcel

to find ourselves within.

Wake up tomorrow morning, friends,

and tell me that story.