Robert Verdon, #338, on the roof of the watershed
I have an apiary in
my bonnet
I am wondering what
to do with the rest of my life
Only beginnings can
have ends?
Moon an oval cream
nail on the black crêpe of a coffin-edge
Celestial rawl plugs
let us hang portraits on the Northern Lights, the Southern as yet
unmarred
The world is a
hologram of a kitten in a cobweb knocking cherubs off architraves
Gingko trees call me
from some distant memory
I have just bought a
new bicycle
There’s always
tomorrow
I like this a great deal. Tomorrows are another beginning. Also apiarily. Rob
ReplyDelete(Nothing at all like this one of mine, but maybe it's the same bicycle...)
ReplyDeleteTHE BICYCLE IN A TREE
The interpretive work
Of being human the dirt
Under those table legs the
Dirt under the speakers yes
The pretty dirt in our minds
The skirting boards the dust
That follows for ten months
The years that we just let go
There’s no point to it no
All those bicycles in a tree
Being dumb seeking truth
A vacuum cleaning nothing
A loud monkey shedding hair.