My fingers drift uncertainly
mind humming
pencil tapping
thoughts tip-toing across a wooden floor at midnight
down the creaking stairs
through the wheezing door
under the swaying leaves of a dancing willow
the windows gasp for air

the wind is thick with mucus
coughing up a storm
the day is bright
not a cloud in sight
but its not safe to leave
you see:
the sky forgot his mask

wisps of grey float over the dying willow
arrogant and stark
(not so cheap) cheap ciggies
the new *****
for a people sleepwalking through life

over across the highway
in a corrugated iron temple
baby suckles mother
as she hums his fears away
Thula Sana
Thula Sana
It is going to be ok

I see her through my window
Across the empty highway
Gentle eyes gazing at me
As she hums the fears away
Hush my little baby
It is going to be ok