
‘The sun is the center of our solar system. It’s the reason that all the planets are here. It’s warmth
gives the sunlight, makes our planet liveable. And of course the sun won’t always be here to keep
us warm. It, like all things will die. And when it does, first it expands. Enveloping all the surrounding
planets including earth…before consuming rapidly. The sun, after all, is just fuel, burning ferociously.
When it runs out of fuel, well, it’ll be gone. After that the solar system will go dark, permanently. I’m
sure by that time, the human race will have fallen to any numbers of calamities. War, pollution, global
warming… tsunamis……earthquakes, meteors…
But hey, who knows, right?’
- Where the wild things are
It is not stone that fills this creatures chest.
It is a heart.
That beats.
Warm and pulsing.
Sending blood to veins and muscles, human as I am.
This skeleton;
A home,
A past feast.
It is where they choose to perch,
Frowning up at the pulsing sun.
Unhappy, scrawny flesh
Does not reflect their innards.
A wilder beast collapses in a cloud of dust.
Dusk hits the sky,
They have never been so content.
Pelican, feather skin.
Swim, swish, skim.
Fish, driven to another life,
If it lets them in.
Beaks striking, left and right:
Spike, splash, snap.
Fish flailing in distress,
Whilst feathers overlap.
Movement stops, the body works,
Slip, slope, slide,
One less fish is swimming now,
Amid the moving tide.





