Saturday 7 October 2017

Imagined #4:


I sat in a quiet field
beside the mumur of a river,
rested beneath the willow,
the summer sun newborn
with yellow after winter's loss.

My eyes adjusted to the extra bursts
while around me everything burgeoned,
the willow's newly furnished branches
hung low
cast shadow filled with streaks of sunlight
allowed the mind to wander,
not a hound on a scent
rather a stroll through grasslands,
bright flowers, wild fennel.

On that stroll
I met myself past...
remembered statements and actions,
the red of shame,
the smile of folly,
the drum beat of love.

Like a cairn being built…the stones
of those silent whistlers of the breeze,
were a tally,
each stone a soldier who fought,
uncollected because the warrior did not return
from the bronze-aged battle.

While I rested
I viewed slowly,
the light behind my eyelids red,
my own cairn...all the bits
that never came to be
or returned differently

to what I expected.

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