Four Serial Haikus
Too lazy to pen.
Sorbet, burring bird, hazed sun -
in the palisades .
Seagulls squabbling,
little money spider crawls
over Urshie's spoon.
Train horns, gear changes,
dog yap, bucket clank, spoon scrape -
gravel silent, still.
Gesturing shades dance
under swaying washing line,
blackening, fading.
........................
Dandelion Sunday
No civic act, these dandelion borders,
boarders of the conciliar provision,
borough squatters,
deep roots, flat leaf-rings spread low
beneath the cutter's blade.
Yesterday a ribbed and
undistinguished greenery
shook roughneck heads or
nodded at wheels gone by;
today hundreds of small suns blaze.
Now the band of glory
has a gruff, smiling chorus
as well as rows of horns,
while over them all, birches trail
diffident catkins.
.......................
Reset Time
Finally I do not need time-out
to hear the blackbird sing his thrilling eve.
Roads have doused themselves
in Sunday ale and tea-time,
left expressive masteries of motorbikes
to aria with barely legal pipes,
and songbirds have the bird-halls to themselves.
Between two sheds sun pauses
on the fence, his big disc reddening
gold wiser, the angle of adieu.
..
YOU ARE READING
Bare Shouldered
Şiir"The difference of high Sensations with and without knowledge appears to me this - in the latter case we are falling continually ten thousand fathoms deep and being blown up again without wings and with all [the] horror of a bare shouldered Creature...
