Submission #2 Dex Hannon

Natural Rust

I am dented

Rusted boned and pleasant

My mind is still sleek and sharpened steel

My lips flow smooth and silken shapes

the body work is in need of some attention.

The engine is fuelled on dietary mistakes

The tyres are balding and the spare disappeared with the jack

I can still ride out the open road.

Ah, the beautiful places I’ve seen.

I still have a half tank of gas

To take me places I’ve never been.

If I could drive it all over again.

Would my roads be different?

I’ll never know.

When I’m taken to the junk yard,

I have only just one hope,

that I ran this dirty old engine,

at least twice around the clock.

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Submission #1 Oz Hardwick

Blink

Eyes close: open. Electric signal

digits flick and flash, cycle

sequence spinning, spilling too soon

to wakefulness, cold morning, bright

sun, blink, almost awake

to catch the cues, the clues,

the codes to hold each second,

each minute, stop the domino

tipping, tripping time in lines

creasing skin, thinning to blue

blushed bloom, opal eyes

wide in spray from endless seas

of memory, surging, filling veins,

plumping vines bearing fruit,

ripe and heavy from rippling months

numbered in sundial shadows, sweeping

shapes glimpsed through fleeting fingers

drumming a deep pulse, drawing

years in circles. Time slips:

begins again.