Bloom

Blooms of dead feathers by the roadside,

The long lick of grey below-

The rolling blue above.

And, side to side, side to side,

Green of all kinds.

So much.

So lush.

You recall another day of returning; of landing,
Then,

Turning in the slow air over York

With your parents close,

And me yet to arrive.

...

Shiny Shoes

BEAUTY IS NOT VAST,

IS NOT SUBLIME,

AND CAN BE FOUND IN THIN EMPTY POCKETS-

IN AWFUL CROWD TROUSERS & COLD COATS,

EVERYWHERE.

BUT ONCE,

BEAUTY WAS PERFECT & STRETCHED-

IT HAD REACH.

THE TANGLED, LIKE

FLOWERS, BLOOMED HIGH IN THE TREE TOPS-

THEIR GATHERING

AS BRUISES AGAINST THE GOLD SKY,

WATER ROSE AROUND

 THE SILENT FELLING.

THE TRUNKS & THE TOWERS,

TRUNK AND TOWERING,

REMAINED INVISIBLE

ABOVE THE RISING TIDE. 

BLOODY.

(... all bones hurt today- particularly the lot of the feet, each toe a tiny dagger to itself ...)