KA Rees #42 - Three Hours from Midnight

Three Hours from Midnight

Three hours from midnight

a bloodless end to a blinding day

the heat strike like an insects pitches

inside your brain.

Two hours before midnight,

spraying skin wet with aloe, the dust

caught between your toes

rose like a demon, carry me home.

Last hour before midnight

bits and bobs, bending to swoop

on a child’s sock, an aeroplane scuttled mid-flight,

of candy-coloured Lego, and so.

Last hour before midnight, minutes

left for drawn-out eyes, the heat has finally lifted

but for the smoke; acrid chemistry of popping

eucalypt flowing through an open window.