…
The latest poem, Terminal Reflection, continues the descent through ordinary spaces where perception shifts by degrees. An airport concourse, glass, light, static, movement; nothing overtly wrong, but things don’t quite align.
The unease here isn’t symbolic or dramatic. It emerges quietly, through delay, repetition and small perceptual mismatches. What’s unsettling isn’t what happens, but how long it takes to notice.
I’ll let the work breathe for a while.
Cheers,
Stef.