Darkness in shades of cloudy grey
smothering the blue of the morning
coldness shakes confetti-ed flowers
tumbling as I wait with engine idling.
Brexit on the radio climate change
and no change, shots in Blanchardstown
stories from others’ world I am unaffected
in my cocoon awaiting transformation.
Observing light saved in liquid islands
creating a freckled surface of droplets
covering the windscreen with imperfection
the archipelago is wiped away with a screech.
My answers are not blowing in the wind
the old ways not washed away by rain
light does not burn away my darkness
no, my metamorphosis starts from within.