Tuesday, 8 October 2013

The Play Of Water Birds

Papers in the river
Some float, others do not –
Out breath spirals into the world.

Do not bring the darkness
Past the stone set there,
Here its only light and air.

An exchange of kisses,
Only two –
It holds a balance
At the place when they meet.

A Coot cutting through glass water
Light patterns arcing light and dark –
Slanting October sun in it all.

There is no one here
Other than the bank side poet  
No one at all.

The reeds bending to the right
The song of the young Alder
The layering of light and sound.

Nothing held still
Blue sky, white clouds, broken water skin
The Moorhen seeing it all as food.

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