Two Poems by Dylan Dawson

Winter Kernow

On derelict streets,

Nautical bells toll,

Along the pew-lined boats

Swaying rhythmically.

With stiffened feet, crept

Into the pub's wood-stove hum.

Ice sweats between

Numb finger-tips.

Swallowing the locality,

between sips.

Pealed layers reveal,

A lack of warmth beneath.

No time tocked, phones stayed pocketed.

The luminous blue moon

Hanging mid-air. Where eyes blazed,

Like stars, with cheeks red

From the heat.

Floating Will Prevent Drowning

Some too drenched in anguish,

Choose to drown, without

Struggling. Others drift,

For hope may lay,

No farther than the

Horizon. Arm’s length from reach.

The pull…pull on legs.

But one must,

On answering the sea,

Float on turtles’ back.

Skyward– the flyby of birds,

The grazing of clouds,

A whispering wind.

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by Dylan Dawson