Pizza in the Park (Written in November 2015)

The ground is wet
from the last onslaught of rain
not really sure
when it will strike again.

We share the bench
sitting three-a-breast
avoiding the pigeons
seems something like a test.

We each hold a small box
with different toppings
as we sit on cold hard wood
among the seagull droppings.

The smell wafts up
amongst the trees
we debate getting more
with twice the amount of cheese.

Wind | An Assignment Piece April 2015

Moulding around the shape of your ears,
over
          under
                        into.
Rustling the leaves in their too tall trees,
rattle
          sway
                      fall.
Brushing your skin like a comforting hand,
it's okay
                you're fine
                                    chin up.
Carrying off your unspoken thoughts,
from your mind
                           through the air
                                                                far away.