Smothered
The door rumbles
as voices ascend
Casting shadows
through the cracks
The sun tosses it open
flooding the waiting room.
A silhouette awaits
inviting me into
the sun bleached office.
Within the room
A framed image
A strangler
Fig
Roots binding
host within
Winding up the trunk
Thickening as it
strengthens
Stretching beyond
Soaking sunlight
Inside the chamber
the tree
rots
Below the image
the silhouette waits
‘Sit.’
The chair too big
My ever-shrinking frame
consumed by
sticky leather
Armrests
begin creeping,
latching on
Shallow breath
Pounding core
The roots
they weave
tightening
Swallowing my chest.
Sinking
Unable to control
Mind incoherent,
body entombed.
Evening Whispers
The ball of weight
finds its place
At the top of his head
pressing down
It moves his eyelids
The city lights flashing
on and off
Manipulated
A puppeteer
pulling strings
A little less serotonin here.
His limbs droop over
the aching deck chair
Like the branches out front
Lifeless until they are
woken
The branches stir
Their fingers twitching
Imitating movements
of a force,
invisible
The sticky summer afternoon
turns to a blustery eve
as hot air rises
Forming
impenetrable clouds
They rumble and
squawk.
A startling array
of nature’s fireworks
A flash,
shortly after,
a crack
The branches thrust
to life.
Lightning charges
The roots
A surge of energy
Throbbing through
Its core.
The ball of weight
morphs into a being
of lightness
It travels
down his neck
along his spine
Reaching his stomach
where warmth resides.
He stretches
the heaviness
evaporating
The sky clears
The smell of eucalyptus
cuts through the damp
the dank
He hangs over the balcony
His laughter penetrates
the city hum.
Anna Tewson
Anna Tewson is studying writing at Macquarie University. She writes poetry and short stories, and enjoys blending elements of the metaphysical with the real. Anna aspires to use the skills learned in her degree to open an all-inclusive space for the public, in which they can tell new and different stories through writing, drama and music.
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