April 8, 2026
I had to take some more steps
to learn when conflicts challenge,
tossing a few rose petals
is worthy of recall.
April 7, 2026
The tissue-paper wrapped clutch bag had been nestled at the back of Clara’s wardrobe ever since she had moved in. She was a frail little lady who fell easily if she didn’t have a sturdy support, and she could be forgetful at times. Everyone was surprised that she’d never had an official diagnosis of dementia, although if she had, there’d be nothing anyone could do to cure it.
April 6, 2026
A rat wearing chef’s clothes greets us by saying, “We’re all for accessibility! There’s a ramp!”
April 5, 2026
Hot cross buns on Friday,
hiding eggs on Sunday,
sugar-fuelled chaos
and tinfoil aftermath.
April 5, 2026
April 4, 2026
Joshua turned off the car radio and leaned back in his seat. His senses were alert, tuned to the daily news about the plight of migrants at the United States–Mexico border. A male voice reported the latest separations of families caught in the crackdown.
April 3, 2026
A crown of thorns he wore
On that judgement day
He carried his own cross
To show us all the way
His crown was not of gold
With jewels made to shine
It was made for pain
April 2, 2026
I thought tonight would be easy.
Their plan was simple,
but it all depended on me.
What if it went wrong,
someone recognised me —
drew attention to my cover?
What would I do?
April 1, 2026
March 27, 2026
March 26, 2026
“I ain’t gonna park in front of an access ramp!”
Brightly, she repeats, “Again! I ain’t gonna park in front of an access ramp!”
March 24, 2026
The list goes on, and each day I look at my calendar,
glad for these events
and the ones to come,
but as for decorations,
I’ll keep them in boxes this year.