We are trying to do
silence
today
but I can hear
traffic
racing on wet roads
in the distance
and the hum
of the air cleaner
and my phone
with its constant reminders
and my breath
which is my life
and if I hold it
for a minute
or two
I can hear
my heart
and him
I can hear him
I can pretend
I hear
his heart too
just before
the silence
slips
under the door.
27 June 2020
I am still surprised
by how a simple fern makes me feel,
its greenest of the greens,
its lacy delicacy,
the way it fans out as if
the order of the universe
was there for all to see,
as if it were waiting
for someone
to start singing.
23 June 2020
The wind is dancing
loud, rhythmic
pressing
against my windows
night twirling
out of control
until the sun breaks
and my world
is filled with
debris
brittle leaves
forgotten bits
of refuse
promises
broken and damaged
unrecognisable
Tomorrow
never comes
but if you stop
and listen
to the night
swirl around you
it ceases to matter
22 February 2020
My body
has turned
tyrant
I have
forgotten
how to listen
how to see
The dawn chorus
used to slip between
the cracks
of my resistance
until hope
became
a beating heart
Now
the silence
is impenetrable
While my body
rants and raves
at the unfairness
at the insistence
that each tiny
movement
each birth
of an idea
must be
accompanied
by pain
by impossibilities
It is 3 am
I am trying
to teach myself
how to listen again
even as my hip
begins to spasm
The birds
will come soon
I’m trying to be ready
23 December 2019
Sussex Coast
Like a gate that never opens
or one the never closes
or one banging in the wind
squeaking on one rusty hinge
My mind is not mine
just a bit of flotsam
lost to the irrational
forces of nature
or is it nurture?
I listen for your song
on the wind
weather storms
and still silences
hanging
on one rusty hinge.
