POEMS
Right now I'm working on a sequence of poems inspired by Coton Orchard – a priority habitat bursting with biodiversity, but threatened by local government's plans to build a busway. This one was written in the spring, for Blossom Day (23rd April).
Blossom’s Time
See these over-wintered trees –
Fissured frames, frigid limbs,
Dead fingers – their summer dreams
Lie in the grass, thin skeletons.
Fossil forest, caught in the act
Of marking time. Until
Earth tilts,
And one grey woollen mitten strains and splits, lets slip a lightening streak,
And the secret
Is out,
And out again – the change repeats
A hundred-thousand-fold, and builds
To a full, full-throated peal.
Spring’s bunting trills.
The gloves are off; a show of hands;
Clouds of mayflies taking flight;
Manna from heaven; wedding banns;
Silent snowfall overnight.
Morning’s broken; bright new world.
Arresting sight beseeches, Stay!
But as the final bud unfurls,
Three petals drift away.