Half a moon waxing

 Half a moon waxing 

It was time of course to warm the oven 

prep the poultry, garlic lemon

slice various vegetables 

But in the east a tint was blooming 

pink on purple deepening 

not to be ignored, yearning for words 

some novel juxtaposing, hungry for poetry 

clinched and sealed the search and forward,  push and pull 

by the sight and symbol bright 

white and slowly silvering 

of half a moon, waxing, still, serene 

at dusk’s descending, closing

dip of day. 

25th November 2020 Hounoux 

All enclosed within

 All enclosed within 

In November 

on a day of mist and grey

cloud hung over the valley 

colour-muted, cold, just eight degrees 

how good to stoke a fire

paper, logs fresh-split and sticks 

match lit, fire-lighters tang and flare

a glow and crackle shift of wood, settling 

as fire ignites and primitive,  my heart is glad 

and comforted. 

Light and lift before the heat

the safety in the circle, hearth glowing 

all enclosed within 

what’s wild and wolf, wind in the stack 

dread and chill, winter all unglamorous 

withheld 

as indoors warms and glows 

like memories of childhood, flicker firelight family 

the safety in the circle, hearth glowing 

November’s gift and gladness 

all enclosed within. 

November 22nd 2020 Hounoux  

Not sugaring the pill

Not sugaring the pill 

No one nowadays of course is obfuscating

sugaring the pill

disguising a difficult truth, infantilising 

(I wonder about that change, was it gradual or overnight 

a radical departure, no more beating round the bush, are we all clear? ) 

So you’ll find yourself across a desk, receiving news, unwelcome, no punches pulled 

undodgable as a bullet, with illustrations- hand drawn to be helpful -

and even in a foreign tongue, with one of us hard of hearing 

translation’s obvious and though your man declares ‘no fire’

no urgent need for action

yet in a trice you’re strapped in and that conveyor belt is rumbling , at a pace, breath-taken 

while your brain scrambles to keep up 

and frankly I’m glad for the briskness and speed 

best have it out, cut it free 

the cancer, the tumour quietly growing 

tentacles creeping, enemy unseen 

Now in the aftermath, anaesthetic, keyhole cut

the neatest trick and miracle, staff meticulously trained

such skill and kindness, overwhelming 

I reflect, surprised, how all was relatively calm, no panic

though death it seemed came one step closer

breathed on my neck, while cancer chilled the air. 

I thought instead of love and all the life I’ve lived

the loveliness of legacy 

my line descending, branching, going forward, twenty-first century 

where the far horizon’s  shining 

as the sunrise lights the sky. 

11th November 2020, Hounoux.