PoetryPix
depictions by the rule of thirds; descriptions mostly freestyle words
Peripatetic
“A violent windstorm the night before the solstice”
Jim Harrions ~ Solstice Litany
agrarian ancestors were thinned from the blood
far too many centuries ago
some four or five families back
there were at least woodsmen with knotty, close-knit hands
reaching for the soil, the saw, the axe
a keen sense of weather and whereabouts their possessions
and even though it serves no earthly purpose, I still mind
the seasonal signs , as if they were observant Holy Days
here in the smug city detached from its own prowess
in Spring skies the first happening of Hirondelles
almost deceives the eye – Swifts shriek first place to the race
with Swallow and Martin in their wake, all metallic blues
and out of Africa, trading on the Spanish plumes
Cuckoos too tour our countryside on a schedule
so tight they must leave before the solstice
this year a violent windstorm kept them back
just long enough to wish they’d stay for summer
One late June I too took a far-reaching journey
saw a half moon in vertical take-off, from the back
of the Black Mountains, the spot where the last, late sun had set
and in that lunar dawn, thoughts that stormed in all directions
settled on the south. It was just before the first of the summer days
– they lie ahead now, lazy, fat and fallow
like the lendlease piece of earth that had me rooted here
the loan called to an end, portable parts are packed in pots
a garden on the move, migrating to whatever ports
will pay their passage.
[Related post: Diane’s Garden]
Taking up another of Jilly’s pick of Harrison quotes for a poetry prompt on Day 25 of 28 Days of Unreason
16 Comments on “Peripatetic”
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Poetry in Print
Your writing always transports me! I’m currently watching the cuckoos😊
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perfect verb as feeback for the poem Vivian – thank you!
p.s. cuckoos are being tracked from here to Africa and back – BTO – looking out for birds
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😊
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I agree with Vivian! ❤
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thank you
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I love how you make the distinction between swift, martin and swallow. In town we had masses of swifts and nothing else. Not the same, and they do shriek. We had a mix here, but they all seem to have gone now. I wonder where?
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seehouse martin survey
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They don’t have the figures for France. They certainly breed down by the river, but not here. I have no idea why.
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something to do with eaves
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Modern houses don’t have them, or not the right kind.
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I really like that ending. “the lendlease piece of earth” is wonderful, and a garden on the move is so evocative.
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everything always moving, always changing – went for an upbeat ending even though I’m losing the use of a garden I’ve tended for 7 years!
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Oh dear, “a garden on the move.” I hope your new location will be pleasing to you, as well. We are in the waning years of this garden, and my heart hurts thinking about leaving it. So many of us have agrarian roots and ancestors. Also, many of us find tracking phenology and peripatetic movements fascinating and natural. Loved this entry. 🙂
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alas no new locale – garden goes & I stay – you understand the wrench Beth- thank you for your appreciation of the poem too
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Enchanting photo!
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Thank you – a collage I made with Photoshop Fix – only just getting the hang of it
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