Contributor: Sara Abend-Sims


I’m back
here, mourning
the ground’s far below

I look through the curtain
to where you net-in the fish
fearless, silver sheen

I reach to where you screened off
my ghost state of inwardness
with milky breath of death

Where your vapor-veil
of opalescence is damming
our floods - condemning

Back here
I'm drifting in hung waters
suspended in blurred air

Smudged invisible drowning


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Sara Abend-Sims started as a visual artist and is now weaving images into words.
Her poems, short stories and Haibuns are published online, in anthologies and in hard copy mags.
She is the recipient of two first award prizes (Community Literary competitions – 2009; 2015).

Contributor: Sara Abend-Sims


A flash in the pan, a stab in the chest
one moment it’s felt, gone in the next
a jolly laughter, eyes probing deep
a bouquet of smiles, a hand wave to keep

A golden boy, charming, quick wit
words, tales - cutting through bits
arranged to excite, to punch, to impress
worked out to entice … to undress

And once you’re hooked
he’s scared, frightened, spooked
it’s all just too much
can’t hold the charge - ouch

Knowing it’s only a show - nothing but
one moment he’s here and then, he’s out
zooming-in onto what’s next’n where
a quick visit , a brief breath of air

It's sometimes - fresh
sometimes - stale


- - -
Sara Abend-Sims started as a visual artist and is now weaving images into words.
Her poems, short stories and Haibuns are published online, in anthologies and in hard copy mags.
She is the recipient of two first award prizes (Community Literary competitions – 2009; 2015).

Contributor: Sara Abend-Sims

- -
Forgotten pleasures. Remembered pain
You said, ‘I won’t forget. I promise’

Searching my face, you’re hopeful
looking for admiration, for adoration
A one way traffic that’s heading
someplace which isn’t home
nor it is togetherness

Fun is by the window, waiting
Imagination isn’t dipping it’s toes
refusing to soar, it’s hidden or goes all
the wrong places. Despair’s humming
softly. Hope’s wings are tied folded tight

When still, I close my eyes, letting
pictures fill my mind. Windows are shut
glass is smeared, clogged, opaque
blocking the sun

I open my eyes and shuffle our cards
Hope comes first, face up. Despair
rustles next face down, competing
to be noticed, to be faced

Looking back, the past murmurs that
we’ve given Despair attention aplenty.
It nudges me, ‘Now is a time to turn
your gaze’

I look again, ‘Who are you, Hope?’
I whisper. ‘Can I touch the place
where trust and caring are soft or
round, a biscuit-coin... a full
golden moon or days of grace’


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Sara Abend-Sims - a poet and writer of fiction, who has degrees in counseling and visual art education.

Sara exhibited her paintings interstates and overseas for two decades, before weaving into words her visual fascination and the experiences of growing up in Israel and life in Australia.

She’s the recipient of two Literary Awards

Sara’s literary work is published Online - Campbelltown council’s website (literary awards 2015), InDaily (Oct.2015), Hibun Today (Dec. 2015), and in anthologies - Friendly Street Poets 2015 & 2016; KNWG 2016 and U3A 2016.