Thursday, January 05, 2012

river 2012 - 5

all night high winds,
the slap of rain, flower pots
rolling along the drive, a spruce
brought down in the orchard -

we believe we are safe
behind brick and glass, under tiles,
but in a small corner of our minds
we imagine the roof lifting, the wind 

scattering the patterns of  our lives
across the Downs, practicing, maybe,
for a time when we'll have to let go.

5 comments:

  1. There has been an unusual amount of wind in the Paris region also, but my wind chimes on the balconies always have a song. I worry living on the top floor, that roof tiles will fly away and leave the rain to infiltrate my apartment. But to spend too much time worrying does no good.

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  2. I love this. It describes just what it's been like - the gales in the night, the sense that things might be falling apart...

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  3. the frenzy is quelled into an alertness and hope; that "maybe" in the last verse is lake a thread you can pull it or darn it


    much love..

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  4. Thanks, alfred, Hilaire, Gillena.

    Gillena - that's a gorgeous metaphor: 'maybe' like a thread you can pull or darn. Stunning image.

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