On Spinney Hill
where star-fruits hang,
beacon of spiring vistas,
twirl over crusted mulch
till finger ends tingle:
dizzying bough-stocked sky,
twig rilled.
But to stop is to ponder,
scrutinizing fiery messages
for a human thought within
a fear of transformation
in the clawed frost.
Little at first,
like a rustle in a settling carrier bag,
a small bubble of humour, seeded in recollection,
relieves the loneliness;
then, with a scuffling grunt,
a striped muzzle dimly flashes
between shrouding ferns
back out of silver sight.
One drop of brilliance splashes down
from the sett tree.
....................
YOU ARE READING
Tapestries
PoetryPoems from 1978 onwards. These poems are in a different style from the later MajorSeventh, the earlier ones often with more of an Eastern-influenced cadence. Later, they vary a lot in form and style.
