The Host
breaking free
of surface tension
bubbles
In starlight we slip shadow to shadow, scanning the sky for wings black against the moon’s white eye. We scrabble through forests of wiry branches clawing our clothes and skin. Over sharp-edged rocks, wading fetid swamp haunted by slimy creatures. We mark the moon’s slow arc across the dome until mother sun wakes, her radiant face cleanses our world of night horrors.
nightmare—
monsters knock
on my window
Marilyn Humbert lives in Sydney NSW Australia. Her tanka and haiku appear in international and Australian journals, anthologies and online. Her free verse poems have been awarded prizes in competitions, published online, in anthologies and journals most recently Black Bough Deep Time 2, and FemAsia Magazine.