It’s going on all the time water everywhere like the poem, a hymn From shallow overflows insects sip like cautious antelope, birds nest below deck something’s living in a toothpaste lid in Cuba no Perelandra these floating isles Out comes the plough now - refining the marshes where gardens struck one mirador with cursory views of long gone faces Perhaps it’s true that this side of remembering we met with cuckoos travelling out of Africa in a tangle of axons thoughts under take a memory test - my analyst sees a green light the right hemisphere, a pictorial phosphorescence but it was no waking fancy It is that dry, restless time of year a strange creation now with the labyrinth gone crucified to courtyard walls, trees proffer fruit on sunbaked limbs, a line defines the space underfoot herbs tumble in an aromatic haze I dispel just enough mystery Wishing is a well where want and will dismisses regimental rhyme Maybe and then perhaps not do I believe in free verse; nothing outlasts the annual treadmill Never a word of where to next
September is a 7 year blog anniversary (see photo post Seven) though I’ve only been posting poems for four of them. By way of a light-hearted celebration, I’ve created this muddled erasure poem from the first lines of each verse of these September poems:- (feel free to browse poems via the year links)
September 2015: Soiling Green; Aquarium; The City
September 2016: Houseboat; La Sierra del dragón; Small talk; There’s a wishing well; Darkling summer; Underworld
September 2017: As a bird; The lost park; The mercenary;
PoetryPix 