Whilst drowing…

* First published on Neuro Logical Literary Magazine

some days,


drowning), a life


comes not

in some form of saviour,

but through

the quiet observation of one

who knows me well,

who chooses kind

phrasing over questioning and

cooks the meal so I don’t have to.

reminding me what I’m doing

all this


and how

the little voices of


angels echoing off my heartstrings is more

than enough to go

another round

and try



He sits in the chair, all

arms and legs,

hands expressing freefall thoughts;

“own your own path”,

“be responsible for your choices”,

“The system didn’t fail me: I failed myself”.

The air crackles. I shoot into my archives and

my spirit echoes his words.

and then:

“The world owes me nothing”, his oration shimmering


soft rain around a street light and

my mind and spirit

harmonise, acknowledging his truth.

(c)2020 Miriam E. Miles


And there she lay

In a garden blooming

Her soul soaking up the morning dew

Her petals opening

Her heart awakening

Enveloped by the sun

Soaked in his warming glow

(c)2020 Miriam E. Miles


Quiver ‬

‪I am afraid‬

‪of that which lies ‬

‪inside my being as a‬

‪a fierce mind ‬

‪takes residence.‬

‪I tremble.‬

‪She reaches into my cells.‬

‪Shakes them.‬

‪I am reborn ‬

‪and quiver like a child ‬

‪In a storm.‬

(c)2020 Miriam E. Miles


They hang together,

hustled by the wind,their cartoon drawn edges

belying their tear-stained hues,

bruised by raging fires crisscrossing Country.

They scatter like pulled cotton wool,

and reveal pockets of scarred land below,

weeping for their kin razed to the soil.

(c)2020 Miriam E. Miles


I sucked in my breath as

her words

hung in the air like

the aurora borealis and 

stood there, mute.

For to add words would be to crack open

the moment, and like paper left too long

in the sun they would

flake away on the breeze. 

(c)2020 Miriam E. Miles

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