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.

12 March 2011

My Evening Walk

I go further today
in the same time,
surprised to find
it’s so light out so late. 

A Willy Wagtail skitters
about the bitumen road,
pecking decisively
at invisible things.

Ants? I wonder,
spotting a trail
dancing in frenzy
across my path.

I notice the roof
that the crows like
is a high gable
with attic windows —

mad in this climate,
but at least they’ve used
that sun-reflecting paint
and the house is white.

Returning up my hill
I skirt the magpie and greet
the terrier who always
rushes to his gate and barks.

I grew up in a town
of hilly streets
with grassy nature strips
and clean air like this.

The crows’ house
has a stand of  bamboo
along the fence. My Dad
used to grow bamboo.

No comments:

Post a Comment