Poetry 'n Prose


That newly fledged hedge sparrow
that flutters in the aura
of a neon lamp among the laurels
activates this height of spirit
on pools with their reflected glories
where rain, nostalgic for the sky
evaporates as heat
relentlessly returns, and we
are suddenly that bit poorer

Obits come from another day
late light glows behind the leaves;
it backs off turns away
and I can do no more
like when, just out of hospital
and trying to feel well,
you sense the place as fragile;

you see how two wood pigeons
have gone and built their nest
in branches over the garden fence,
scaring away such smaller birds
as those aligned on the top of one vast
motorway junction sign
for Canterbury Sevenoaks,
Dover and the coast

These things themselves
like a picture of health,
being more at home than you can be
in your lost self-interest,
as caravans continue on to all
and the light too going west.

By 67paintings

A dialectical site of poetry, painting and the odd musical excursion into the unknown.

2 replies on “Disorientation”

I know the feeling – its when the mind is in mid-flight or perhaps preparing and the binds are stretching, clinging, loosening and tightening by turns. Very well put!

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