After the rains the sun comes, after the night is dawn. After labour is rest, after the climb is the view. After, everything comes after. It’s as though after is a gate, a fence behind which blessing is stored. But before, before is a long blank space. A desert or a wilderness, a necessary ascent. … More A Poem: After the Rains

I catch sight of myself in the window’s reflection. I catch sight of myself as you might hold me daily in your gaze. Every now and then I think to hide. That if I can walk undercover of the night, then your sweeping search light will pass by me here. But then I see myself, … More A Poem: Reflections