sometimes poems are mysteries like this one
although there's something
ordinary in here
maybe less inhibited
it's long and might be short too
it's been a while
life has interrupted
how and where to live.
low red moon split by cloud
wide wild bird vee heading away
to winter wherever winter might be
end
wet outdoor cushions
ken
crush of fighting brambles
studded with berries
need
strawberries shelter under weeds
keen
how does life live itself when we’re not looking?
eke
where did fourteen, twenty, fifty-one years go
and where are they now?
keened
one sparrow eats and lives, now it’s turned into six
den
the postman smiles through the window and helps the day
he leaves presents and cards when it’s nobody’s birthday
maybe for someone else but with my name on a label
knee
in the morning it will be different for sure
which may be better or not
it takes time to know that
time and listening
kneed
a joy of boys lost in teenage grunting
urn
how does time matter except to clocks
tern
a tablespoon of turmeric glows
rent
there’s bits in the sink
where will they go
when there’s no compost bin
ten
it’s autumn and I haven’t caught up with summer
err
was that a forgotten or a remembered?
net
do I still know how to make a decision?
I think so but I would wouldn’t I
must I ask and swallow when I’m told
or take the risk and be scared
is not knowing a sign a symptom
is it confidence creeping away
not capacity
runt
is there anyone who’ll catch me?
okay i’ll do it
then make tea
nut
the apples have fallen bright green and nibbled
under the tree the chicken shadows
there are ways to time travel
tomorrow
nurture
on tuesday we will birthday
on sunday I’ll remember benn
and love them both the same
different as strawberries and celery
both essences of themselves
and all of us and all the others round them
round us and every one of us different the same
here or a bit less here and here even though
return
snatches of radio music eartha kitt
children they thought were backwards
like nerdlihc or maybe drenchil or lidrench
eartha is a great name i think
rune
when i get up to pee in the night
i won’t play a word game
run
and everything and everyone will sleep
the streetlights switched off to let birds sleep too
instead of putting laudanum in feeders like we did
when lights blared all night
for drunks and nightworkers to find themselves
and birds hid under their wings
that's not true about the laudanum
but I like it anyway
such a calming word in the mouth
help us stay safe asleep till day
pulls its way out of night
the low red sun sinks
split by cloud and it will be the same
and completely changed over
again for tomorrow
not all who wander are lost.
24.8.24
Beautiful, poignant and thought provoking as ever. Always look forward to reading as many of poems as I can. Shared treasures of your life combined with the honest reality that we all try to maintain xx
So touching and beautiful. Your wisdom still shines. xxx
Oh Maxine. I love this. So many moments I connect with. So many memories and I see you, hear you when I read it. And suddenly I am at Kate’s wedding and Benn is there and it’s snowing.