Grub On The Beach
Full blossom on the cherry tree by the sports hall
door.
I notice it today.
The sun is bold. I open the door and sit in shade.
Students walking in: white suits bouncing blinding
night.
While I am sitting, I am thinking what sort of times are these?
I am thinking of a dragonfly grub, sensing change,
sliding feet, ascending a stem, feeling like bird food.
After class the sky is light: pale blue, soft golden orange.
I notice it today.
The sun sinks slow over the beach while I walk and think
and hear the waves telling me wise calm words. Rock pools so warm, like a
Mediterranean beach. Where my trousers have caught the surf, a cold damp
settles.
Coffee in a flask, the car heater works.
Really, "what sort of times are these?"
ReplyDeleteI love the writing. Grub for the soul. Take care.
Beautiful imagery. (You done good!) I hope you have a super weekend.
ReplyDeleteWonderfully written. Your post put me in a pensive mood now.
ReplyDelete