Gallery of Cardy

September sunset,

blues and pinks spill like secrets,

the sky learns to blush.

A jacket half-zipped,

the breeze smells of burnt sugar,

shadows stretch too long.

Geese carve the night air,

times no one can decipher,

yet we understand.

I bought a Celosia
on sale at the market,
a pot of purple flames,
pink whispers at the roots.

I didn’t know how to care for it.
But I knew I needed something
to care for me.

I set it on the sill
in the sunlit room
And it rose
head high,
drinking it in.

We all should bloom like that
Shoulders tall as roots,
feet firm in the earth,
face open to the sky.

And when we do,
it will be because
We watered ourselves.