Unfathomable Security

I am still in search, of all
That you think I’ve found
I am still on the lookout
For far less solid ground

With no light
He might have said
The night he read your story
Of the also after dead

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Guthrie

You sang, of being amongst the dust bowls

I write, of cornfields, sunbeams on the rapeseed, walks by streams and meadows, willows no longer for the weeping, fresh shoots, that reach up to the sky

You sang on, of having been brought through the great depression

I write on, of motor homes, jet-streams beyond the blue day, talk shows with entrepreneurs, moguls no longer there for the reaping, fresh shoots, that think they’ll never die

Your boy sang, he made it to the big time

As my mother’s son I write, of families tormented by suppression, repressed with hopes they could not call; the little girl skips, swings her pink handbag, thank heaven their souls eternally tried

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Guillemots

Swoop

Dive

Soar

Glide

Cliff tops

Grey skies

Raindrops

Sea spray

Listen; hear sigh

The mournful cry 

Of the guillemots

Listen

Silent in 

Your own self

To call the guillemots

Another night of theatre 

Another night

Of crowd control

Take me to your sky life

Pass on by

Your broken heart

Take me to your soul

Listen to the call, listen

And be silent 

In your own self

Hear the call

The mournful cry

From the grey skies

& the cliff tops

The call

From the raindrops

& the sea spray

The squawk

& sigh 

The beautiful cry

Of the guillemots

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All made up and nowhere to go

To sit without suggestion

As protected by the dream

Black spots of resurrection

Connected altogether too clean

To sit as an observed dimension

The dementia of a scheme

White dots of self infection

Reflect the step to true demean

To sit await collection

For inspection by the team

Blood clots of doubt detection

Deflect the specs it seems

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Observations At An Exhibition

Another blood test Friday

Pink socks, painted toenails

Soft brown sandals

Society magazines; real people

We all get tired don’t we

Wonder if all’s worthwhile

Then the soft breeze

Catches the hair on my arm

A friend points me

Towards some new direction

For a moment, in my mind

All is replenished

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