I ... entered the poem of life, whose purpose is ... simply to witness the beauties of the world, to discover the many forms that love can take. (Barabara Blackman in 'Glass After Glass')

These poems are works in progress and may be updated without notice. Nevertheless copyright applies to all writings here and all photos (which are either my own or used with permission). Thank you for your comments. I read and appreciate them all, and reply here to specific points that seem to need it — or as I have the leisure. Otherwise I reciprocate by reading and commenting on your blog posts as much as possible.

27 August 2012

Dusk Walk


The hills are clear.
The nights are becoming
if not really warm, less cool.
On my dusk walk
people are about.
Dads are out in their sheds
or yarning from driveways.
Little kids, some in pyjamas,
bounce and squeal on a trampoline.
Two slightly older children
still in school uniform
walk their dog —
a puppy who wants to be friendly.
I scratch behind his ears
and tell him he's beautiful.
The girl holding the lead smiles.


I have been feeling the irony
of doing things now for myself only,
feeling the emptiness.
But after all, I always
did some things for me — the walks,
the meditations. Only he
was always there like a backdrop,
my backstop, at my back.
That night, before
he walked out into the dark,
he came and stood firmly behind me
with both hands on my shoulders
to give me energy because I was sick.
The warmth of his hands
was always magic. I walk
in fading light and think of him.

Submtted to dVerse Open Link Night #59


  1. Awww... I so feel you in this. It isn't easy to learn new habits, new way of life after having had so many years of mutual shared dependency. It's not easy at all to get used to new routines when you didn't want to let go of the ones that filled you full of comfort. Loved the image of the puppy. :)

  2. such a felt and touching write...it's not easy...feel your heart in this...love the part where you felt his hands on your shoulder...giving you strength...

  3. it is hard finding that rhythm again...all the old familiar things lead only to memory...the second half is chock full of emotion....i really like all the life you encounter in the first part though....

  4. New things can surely lead us down a rocky path, but before long they will become routine too, great imagery from you.

  5. This brought tears to my eyes, such a touching write.

    "The warmth of his hands
    was always magic. I walk
    in fading light and think of him."

    ...is both so beautiful and sad. Love the title as well.

  6. This also brought tears to my eyes. So quotidian and so sad. Very well composed.


  7. The first part is a clear snapshot...The second tears at your emotions because you are now dealing with the emptiness ~ Lovely share ~

  8. Heartfelt and touching poem!

  9. I am so glad for your strength, and so sorry for your loss. A luminous poem.

  10. This touched me - even in that first section, with its touches of happiness, there was that tinge of an absence, a subtle hint that is brought to the foreground in the second section. Heartfelt.

  11. Such a poignant poem--very touching and sad. So hard to lose those who have that magic touch. Beautiful.

  12. There is something about the grief process that cannot be ignored..married people might find it harder to deal with...touching...

  13. heart wrenching...well done

  14. wonderfully articulate, Rosemary.

  15. beautiful lines...