caterpillar fat
and packed so tight
the pods won’t pop…
(There has to be a full length poem here, if I can only find it!)
Tag: original poem
first day of spring
Although the weather outside (here in central Spain) is hotter than a normal UK summer would be, I’m reminded by Google that today is the first day of spring.
This blog is in desperate need of an update, but if I want to get out there and enjoy the sunshine later on today, I’d better get some work done, so I’ll settle for posting a poem:
Spring
March skies leaked
milky sunshine; now it lies
in primrose pools on the embankment.From ivydark, zodiac
periwinkles blink, then stare
where caterpillar catkins dance
with bumble bees. Under the trees
a crocus campfire kindles.Gold permeates the air: the blackbirds
have been drinking
daffodils.
(First published in Poetry Scotland, 2005, which is quite appropriate, as the ideas started to germinate on a visit to Irvine some years ago.)
what is this life…?
Late. Running with the grey herd
across the Manzanares bridge, I pause,
look down from the parapet, attention hooked
on the ess of a cormorant’s neck.
The race resumes; then, on the city side
the first green parakeet of spring
squawks my gaze skywards.
mid February
The discussion among the women queuing in the corner shop this morning was all about what gifts their husbands had bought them, and how those who hadn’t would be suffering the consequences.
None of them had any intention of giving presents themselves –ya no estoy enamorada-, said one, and the luncheon meat, cheap frankfurters and processed cheese in her basket confirmed that she wasn’t planning to cook a special Valentine’s meal, either.
Continue reading “mid February”
juxtaposition
Palm fronds spike
at mountain peaks
blurred by clouds and snow.
don't confuse the narrator 