in the last light

in the last light
knots untie
not by themselves of course
but carefully
with delicate fingers
and patience

I close my eyes
to work on the worst parts
the torn pages
torn pieces
and buried

silk threads fall
through my fingers
undo the tapestry
as it hangs on the wall
across from me
picking at the threads

do I know the worst parts
without knowing the best
asking threads to stop
weaving in and out
stop creating
makes no sense
no questions

in the last light
until the first
I let the threads fall
and begin weaving again.


pages turn


pages turn
blanket unused
no scratches
or creases

I cannot mirror
my mind
in the bleached fibers
no colour or ink
that blooms under my finger tips
within the stretched skin
covering my heart

although I try

I stare at the blank wall
wondering why
the words stop
at the glass

no not why
I know the answer

but why will they not move past
the chrystaline membrane
to breathe fresh air

pen picked up, put down
another torn page
blank screen
tick tack
then nothing

like a heart beating
breath held
and waiting
day 1

30 days of poetry
theme: Two of Cups

seeking light


tell me to be strong
as I close my eyes
head down in a vice
another blinding headache
fill my chest with stones
to balance the weight
and lay me beneath the stars
for one more night
with the moon

let your words float
around my face
to kiss my eyes to sleep
one last time before you go

remind me

snow melts
floods recede
sun rises
moon sets

life moves
in the deepest soil
seeking light

la fraser March 20, 2017

I am you


I am you
in your worry
held breath
waiting to be noticed
cared for

I am you
in the turning
of a page
learning connections
in lines and wrinkles
dug deep on your skin

I am you
in the last light of day
sunset gold
falling across your face
with a rumour
of a smile

I am you
in the howling storm
the flooding emotion
that overwhelms
the breakwall
to pool
in low painful places
where the heart still aches

I am you
in the morning
as the sun rises
where sleeps lays
still curled in the blankets
warm and secure
against nightmare shadows

I am you


Leigh-Anne Fraser, March 8, 2017


you sat across from me
after explaining all
you can do
have done
wanted to do
how you wanted to give back
help others
now that you were working
and had a home of your own
help those
who are in the same place
you were
grateful after so many years
for help
for understanding

accept me

you said the words
more than once

I read the worry
in the thin trickle of sweat
that fell down the side of your face
while I explained
and asked questions
we spoke then of common friends
and our love of painting

our circles
woven closer
part of the same path
in this moment

I told you I was
grateful for you
and when I said
you were already part of our family
that we needed your help
you smiled
in the most beautiful way

Leigh-Anne Fraser, March 7, 2017

the first row


the first row
is the hardest
set up the pattern
count from the edge
to see if the numbers work

sitting in my head
a piece waits for translation
from air into wool
needle exchange
sometimes the twist works
sometimes it does not
row after row
silent meditation
between fingers

the eyes wander mostly
to the screen, the room
to what the shadows are doing
in the corner
knowledge is not held there
in the seeing

it’s like breathing in the end
bringing a blanket
out of nothing
to lay across my lap
and grow to wrapping size

a gift of embrace
waiting to be held
by the next person
so my hands can go back
to their work

Leigh-Anne Fraser March 6 2017

I just wanted to try


I just wanted to try
and it felt like breathing
for the first time
after plunging into the sea
getting lost in the waves
the undertow
turning me over
lungs bursting
until finally
I find my feet again
in the ever-moving sand.

I just wanted to try
before the sun set
before the snow fell
before the ice formed
before the last leaf curled
before the river dried
before the stone rolled

I just wanted to try

leigh-anne fraser march 5, 2017

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