Timid Couples
By Erica Weatherlake
stranger and steamier
in this neck of the mangroves
the yards
deliciously un-mown,
river lapping the heals of mango trees.
timid couples
turn into fragile families.
the wax and wane of sleep hygiene &
nosebleeds. banana sandwiches, visible in the throat
during February lunches long ago.
the swampy flats sink to accommodate
three bodies worth of growth spurts.
beneath lethargic summer stars
the hum of invisible light planes
colours in
the pre-dinner silence of later years.
siblings paled by the first acrid
swig of body, on train trips home
from the city on Sundays.
three bedrooms deserted to natural shadows stalking
the post cane fire evening air.
all memory submerged now
by sand blown inland from the wind shrunken
dunes.