Sunday, 14 April 2013

a visit

I went to visit my mother this morning
and ask her if she had any ideas
at first I couldn’t find her amidst the rows of pheasants calling
the timber testaments swayed & shivered bare
each quondam cortex as crisp as the next

so there I sat awaiting a warmer air

once found though she had nothing to offer
and I gave nothing back
save anger
at the appearance of a mis-dated plaque

far better then to merely watch

four spot shadows along the foundations of the stream
mimic skaters spinning a springtime dream
and a passing frog paused with a question in his throat
so I took out my pen and paper that I might write notes

his words weren’t for me either

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