unseasonal

The most that can be said of the recent weather is that it has been very English. Glorious sunshine and torrential rain.

Yesterday’s mix of seasons brought a stunning double rainbow over the back garden. The photo shows only one of the bows and doesn’t do that justice, I’m afraid.

rainbow

A couple of days earlier, I was sitting in the sunshine waiting for a friend and leafing back through the little notebook I always carry with me.

I was shocked to realise that it’s still not even half full although I started it over a year ago. Mostly, it seems to contain unnecessary phone numbers and email addresses, but I did find a few scraps and ideas for poems and other writing that I ought to return to.

This draft still needs a lot of worrying at, I think, but the mention of the rainbow screensaver is a tenuous connection that gives me an excuse to post it now. I gather from the title that it must originally have been written in winter.

False spring

In the morning half-light, I find you
asleep at your desk. The screensaver
is a rainbow octopus that multiplies itself
in every polished surface. Through the window
it weaves along the neighbour’s fence then pauses,
pulsing, blossom pink, where the peach tree
used to be.

 

Author: don't confuse the narrator

Exploring the boundary between writer and narrator through first person poetry, prose and opinion

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