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Thursday, 25 April 2019

Seventy Six

Some things I know
Some things I don’t
Some things I’ll do
Some things I won’t

I breathe in
Into the present moment
I breathe out
All of my distractions

Some paths I’ll walk
Straight and true
Along the ridges
Where nothing’s new

I breathe myself in
Into the present moment
I breathe myself out
Out with all my distractions

Some words I hear
Clear, thin
Spreading the message
Drawing me in


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Wednesday, 24 April 2019

Seventy Five

He lies beneath the tree
His crutches leant against
His mobility scooter
He has told me his story
Or a small part of it
Which resonates

His knees are raised
Perhaps this is a more
Comfortable position
He is in the shade
Which maybe also helps

Does he contemplate
On death
Does he meditate
On life
Is his despair
A thing I have never known

He is a musician
That is
I know he plays guitar
He smiles, he laughs
He makes me
Smile, and laugh

He has a spirit
Which is infectious
He has a story
Which he dared to tell


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Tuesday, 23 April 2019

Seventy Four

There is geometry
In the trellis
There is repetition
Along the front of the house

Roses, a robin
I have nothing to offer
I have no gifts to give
Repetition is at the front of my mind

Old branches; bent, disfigured
I am no gardener
I am no tree surgeon
Repetition is all I know

Hot coffee, without sugar
I did not train as a Barista
I did not warm the cup before
Repetition, oh how I need to find you

White flower, slowly opens
I am not always so so observant
I am not always so so well seeing
Repetition may you be with me, may you


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Monday, 22 April 2019

Seventy Three

So I smile
As I let you rise
So I laugh
As I let you fall

So with hope
I let you rise
So with grace
I let you fall

So with no struggle
You rise
So with no regret
You fall

So with little doubt
Rise
So with little fear
Fall

So
So
So
So


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Sunday, 21 April 2019

Seventy Two

These are the evening primroses
Which I saw open for the first time

The wall
The bench
The poets
The dusk
The evening primroses

This is the emblem of one life of survival
Such a gift, such a place

The blue sky
The thirty degrees
The birdsong
The high noon
The evening primroses

That such certainty should emerge
From such uncertain, troubled times

The mind
The body
The heart
The soul
The evening primroses


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