poetry – Page 81 – don't confuse the narrator

iridescences

I’m back in the village and back to posting pictures of dead bugs. After all, when they’re this beautiful, how can I resist?

The bugs in the poem below aren’t dead. They are, however, as bright as jewels in the early morning sunshine.
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It seems wrong not to post to the blog with a poem for the Perseid meteor shower. Unfortunately, I don’t have any shooting-stars poems that haven’t been posted previously. Instead, the best I’ve come up with is a picture of this glorious miniature sun which is currently flowering in my back garden:

Those who want the poetry will find some if they click the link above. And I’ll go out and star-gaze later on and see if I can have something new written in time for next year.

the afterwash

After travel comes washing. As I hung out the second load this morning, I remembered this short poem from a few years ago.

Monday

Wind paunches the belly
of a wifebeater while
blue-black denims drip.
The kitchen drain belches suds
and she ponders ironing
white collars.

poetry, plants and poison

Other than the gourd patch down in the orchard, one of the few bright spots in the garden at the moment is the uncontrollable oleander outside my study window.

I say “uncontrollable” as it has been ruthlessly cut back a couple of times and tied back with twine, rope and clothes line and still manages to break free enough to block the driveway. At least this year it isn’t covered in black fly and other bugs.
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melon yellow

I commented last week that there are very few flowers in the garden at the moment, but it would be wrong to say there were none at all.

Each morning, I dutifully water the patch of ornamental gourds I planted in an attempt to cover some of the chain link fence between us and the neighbours. And each day I am amazed at the size and colour of the flowers.

Since the flowers first appeared a couple of weeks ago, a line of poetry has been running through my head. I’m not sure whether it’s triggered by the suspicion that gourds and melons must be related, by the brightness of the flowers or by the similarity of the sounds of gourd and gaudy…
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