al clark

The Sun Shines On The Riotous

for the first time in months, the sun is shining.


and that sunshine has kindled a warmish breeze in the belly of my garden.


the hairs on my arms tingle as they draw in the sun like a plant’s roots dancing under the puddles of a short shower.


the wind rustles the leaves,


welcoming the sunshine back.


the birds echo the wind’s excitement, but struggle to get a chirp in edgeways.


two weeks late as usual, they nod to each other.


the smells of spring waft shyly through, but with predictable chaos;


sleepy scents hoping the sun’s warmth brushes the dampness off their cloaks.


it will.


my mind starts to calm, and slowly – in my mind’s eye – pink and yellow ooze from all sides, blending beautifully with orange,


covering the lenses of a stranger’s specs as he looks anxiously into the distance,


before fading into himself; the glimpse of familiarity lost forever.


soon, orange completely succumbs to pink and yellow, and they thrash out wildly, screaming as they spiral, before slowing and finally settling.




at ease and at peace with their imperceptible, ethereal chaos.