Our Separate Ways To Isabel Cecily Dowling We cast lots for you todayWe let the scrabble letters decidewho should treasure the bits and piecesslowly gathered to make your lodgings Less bare We all wanted the ring:A lifelong closeness to younever lost, forgotten, or surrendered,(though you read more

Small Things In the end we carried what was left of your thingsIn a bag marked PATIENTS PROPERTY I was not surprised they gave you no apostropheOn that plain brown bag with those thick black lettersbecausewithin hours of knowing your last dreamyou’d lost your name, read more

The fat toad Ill Feeling… It’s always there between usA fat toadSilently waiting to squawk We both feel itYet never mention itIt could explodeBecome a bomb we cannot defuseSo we hope that time or tearswill wash it away Well it may….but one dayWhether we want read more

Suffering is … Suffering is … Like a stone in a shoeOr grit in an oyster shellIt can become a blister orWith time and care a pearl On the other handIt can kill you. December 1995 in New Zealand