In a Book of Days
In
a Book of Days
today
has wisteria wound across the fence,
first
petals unfurled
tiny
terracotta clover leaves crept like strawberries
scattering
yellow stars between the cracks, softening the slabs
and
moss
a
waft of lilac, tamarisk fronds emerging,
a
bleeding heart somehow survived, now dwarfed,
honesty
bright purple, ceonothus shot too high
the
best of blues,
weeds
( potential poppies) spared among the stones
a
blackbird singing invisible
and
Betty chirruping
inventing
her dear self.
18th April 2013, Hounoux
Terrific stuff, Sally. I love the last two lines especially.
ReplyDeleteJust discovered how to actually post here.
ReplyDeleteLove the poem above. So reminiscent of ...
and evocative ...
I too love the last two lines.
(Elijah chirrups too, and coos0