Solo Spooning & Transcendence. Anni Coyne


In the whispering silences of post-midnight solitude
Where ghosts of rampant angst are pulled and stretched in Munch-like menace
Taunting, bullying, flurrying wisps of regret and grief
Where solemn, budgeless worries park in solid, sulking heaps, that lurk and loom
I open wide-eye full of dark 
To gather, desperately, any warmth of light to quench my need

and suddenly remember 
this is just 

Rolling over (the kinder catalyst)
Back turned to unreasoned shame and torment
The shadows waver
poppy field wonder
Breathe deeply, gratefully, the full bloom fresh conscious choice

Cradled in my solo spooning space
The plethora of goodness, plain and unadorned
A fecund comfort of possible joys and compassion
Open handed vulnerability
The freedom of nothing to lose 
I rise, 
helium lifted, 
endearing warbling, breath stirred, gentle weaving


Through the filigree of naked branchlets,
Across an unknown spanse,
Body of water, pool of mystery
The focal point, a divine evergreen
My heart cries out ‘a gum!’
An ‘Emerald city’ dream in gorgeous teal
Through crimson twiggery.
These woven branches,
Alveoli, stretching out into the world
Oxygen out, CO2 in
The antithesis of our spending
We owe a debt to these
Across the world this image springs
Upon my glowing screen
And brings to me an awe of pleasant reverie
A gift from a friend
A scape to place my hungry mind
To roam, to blossom, to breathe. 
Contrasting hues draw out my true believer
My honest self, my only soul, in solitude
To reach across the world to the artist
Heart to heart (as such truth must)
Delivering my offering, humbly, 
Knowing vulnerability.
Hoping to inspire just a shadow of the emerald divinity
And the crimson trellis so naturally formed
So masterfully framing
The tree and ground across expanse
That I cradled in my very self.

About the contributor

Anni Coyne says; Keeping a writing journal since I was 12 is probably my best experience of developing writing skill. After finishing my degree, I went straight into lecturing. Mostly, though, I thought of myself as a songwriter. In the last 12 years I have worked on my poetry writing skills on and off with a small community of poets. I feel I am developing, but I'm hungry to progress as a writer. I also sing, facilitate choirs, do a bit of art and work at building a resilient community in the beautiful little town where I live in rural Victoria (Australia)

Related Articles

More Like This