Twilight Dreams — Madeleine Barrow
Image: Nathan Anderson on Unsplash
The air back home is whipped by salt
and sprayed with grains of sand
which jump from children’s footsteps.
The air is scorched by tar
which sears our feet.
Air shimmers and sizzles the skin of snags
stung by Heinz
as we slip, slop and slap.
In New England the air is heavier
weighed down by mist and bells
which chime to hypnotise time.
Time frays into buzzing wasps
They attack my dreams with salt and sun
with Sunnyboys collapsing in their cones
as cola drips down my thumb.
With cracked Sherrins
smothered by youth
damp with grass.
With raw skin
like lobster shells
embalmed with aloe vera.
The wasps spawn as threads snap
as kilometres twist into miles
and day and night embrace in a vermillion twilight.
New England twilights are dense.
Grey stones and clouds lined with indigo.
I dream of cracked earth, of dancing air, of salty sunsets.
Madeleine is a teaching associate at Monash University in finance and econometrics. She was born and raised in Melbourne but moved to the New England region of the US when she was 18 to undertake a physics degree at Yale. She is currently pursuing a PhD in financial econometrics at Monash, and in her spare time likes to bake and binge-watch comedy. Her writing has been published in Voiceworks, Lot’s Wife, the Yale Daily News, and the Yale Scientific Magazine.