It’s been terribly blustery this weekend – the type of weather that tends to blow all ideas out of my mind and prevents me from focusing. It does, however, provide a good excuse to post a picture I took last spring of a wind flower – a wood anemone.It’s also an excuse to post a poem that seems to be new to the blog, although I think it was written back in 2002. Continue reading “windy days”
turns the beach
vertical, lifting it
towards a cleanswept blue
where tiptilting gulls
It’s not quite the right photo, of course, but the tramontane wind blew so hard for four of the five days of my recent trip that I couldn’t see or think or focus. I could hardly stand upright most of the time, so was pleased to find even a few lines of poetry, without worrying about whether I had appropriate pictures to use alongside.
A painter’s light, you said,
but I saw nothing,
eyes scrunched against
drifting sand and tufts
For some unknown reason the local council left the street lights on all night last night, so when I woke in the wee small hours I could see just how much damage the wind was doing in the garden. It was not a pleasant sight, but the thistledown street lamp almost made up for it.
En un lugar de La Mancha, driving
along an empty motorway, we see
giants on the horizon. Full tilt
we race towards them.
Long arms whirl and sharp blades
slice the air. We hear aeolian music