Feels like a red gem of a day.
A poem or two:
has blown the birds away
and plants sweep
the garden back
and forth.
He is inside his head
as usual
wind whistling in one ear
the other leeward
and nostalgic for
childhood holiday camps
by the Indian Ocean
dogs' ears pinned back
all eyes
on the horizon.
He leans
and turns the hose off
hand over hand
he wends it around
the half wheel rim
screwed to the porch.
Andrew Burke
1 comment:
Nostalgic indeed, especially for one who is separated by time and distance from the places of childhood. As always it is the detail that makes this a reality for me. Fran
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