10 days on a small island 

I am still here,
Standing here among the stones.
My thoughts drifting in the relentless wind,
Out towards the unending horizon: the line of blue grey.
I came here looking for myself,
And found nothing.
Just a space, where once a question might have been.
The crow did not follow me here
Just the seagulls remain, calling across the sea.
As night falls, sleep descends,
And everything is again forgotten.

© 2016 Angelique Talbot, all rights reserved



I am standing on the beach, at moonrise.
Blue and purple fade into indigo,
the crescent moon cascading silver sparks onto the darkening water.
The tide is coming in.
There are no others on the beach now
but there are still footsteps upon the sand.
Some from where I have been,
others showing where I might go;

I am standing on the edge,
halfway into darkness.
A lone crow flies overhead,
then melts into shadow.
Beyond the shore are tall, flowing grasses swaying gently in the breeze.
Soft sands run though my fingers
as I walk through labyrinthine pathways;
you can lose yourself in here.

I am standing alone,
wondering why I am always here.
Blood and gold streak the horizon
As the uneasy dawn begins to pierce through the darkness;
Through the low light of morning,
the crow is watching.
Its eyes piercing through every layer of yourself,
until only truth is left

© 2016 Angelique Talbot, all rights reserved


Untitled (stream of thoughts at 17:15 6 April 2016)

I lost my way in self-defence,
but panicked, and decided to find it again.
I was watching the road winding onward, but took the long way round.
There is no centre to anything
so I just fell out on the other side.
Why am I always here?
I should not have come here looking for any part of myself.
Cut the apple, says the witch, and find the sacred star
You’ll have forgotten again by morning.

© 2016 Angelique Talbot, all rights reserved