Up to 56 (2 of which contain fox poo) 944 to go
I caught a fox doing a poo whilst on a lunch-break walk one day, and it was an amazing colour. I wish I had taken a picture of it.
31.
In the fields, scent trails to
Intrigue the dog on her morning walk
Are sneaked out by foxes
They leave crafty turds in the grass
32.
Foxes eat berries, the proof
Will be marvelled at, it will be
Difficult not to be impressed
By the purple turds by the hedge
33.
Fantastic dreams work the dog’s legs
She is chasing the yipping fox
Across the stream, jumping in
Joyous pursuit, she falls off the sofa
34.
Other dreams go to the beach
Push out in a kayak, paddle
To an island, light a fire
Cook two mackerel
35.
Deeper in the sea, sharks
Are not known to dream
The current brings them oxygen
It is not time yet to hunt or travel
36.
Dreams animate synapses, 100 million
pulsing cells makes three pounds of
Grey matter, makes pictures of
Ocean, beach-fire, sunset
37.
Several spiders in the bathroom
Corners are busy. Fine webs wobble
Trussed fly husks tucked up neat
Too late for a bedtime story
38.
Cloud re-gathers, partitions
The sky, the wind-dragons
Break these fences, roam
Bowing branches as they pitch by
39.
The cat waits, she is patient
Concentrated to an essence
Mouse-meat tastes like pork, delicious
Free-range organic mouse-pig
40.
The dog is surprised, falling
From the sofa. Her basket in sight, she
Chooses the armchair, she
Curls back into jumping, in dreams
41.
First hour of the day rolls over
Into the second, the shadows in
The kitchen jolt, the wind blows
The cat pounces
42.
One sperm makes it, all
The way into the egg, the
Journey is made in stages
The cell begins to divide
43.
Two rows of wine brewing
In glass, on top of the bookcase
To catch rising heat, to harness
The warmth of the living room
44.
Nothing under cat’s paws
But grass, the flavoursome mouse
Dodged into the thicket, the cat
Strolls away, unaffected
45.
Wind swoops the dark beach
Catching sand as it spins
Trailing spray, turning out
Against the swell, offshore
46.
The water in the old granite trough
Flat glassy black, reflecting a rectangle
Of constellations. One cupped leaf
Floats in a block of universe
47.
There is always one spider
In the bath, alternating
Standing very still with another
Scrabbling offensive upwards
48.
There is always one slug
In the shower, trailing, trailing
Over the tiled wall, no-one
Knows what it is looking for
49.
Woodlice gather in a fallen
Apple, they have made
Tunnels all through it
An edible house
50.
A moth zigzags at
The lamp, jerking
Across the room like
A series of hiccups
51.
Cat re-stalks her mouse
She can taste the soft delectable
Flesh, killing is a function
Of cat, tooth and claw
52.
Mouse in mouth, cat struts
Across the lamplight from the
Window, a clear cut shadow
Attached at her heels
53.
Juice oozes, drop by audible
Drop, from the flat apples
Under the press plate
Into a five gallon bucket
54.
On top of the wood-burner
Is a pile of stones, all confiscated
From the dog, she has
Three more hidden in her basket
55.
Sky traffic passes under
Stars, light that travels towards
Looks different to the light
That travels away
56.
Transformation by worms
Happens in the magic box of the
Compost bin, what we don’t eat
Will feed a garden
31.
In the fields, scent trails to
Intrigue the dog on her morning walk
Are sneaked out by foxes
They leave crafty turds in the grass
32.
Foxes eat berries, the proof
Will be marvelled at, it will be
Difficult not to be impressed
By the purple turds by the hedge
33.
Fantastic dreams work the dog’s legs
She is chasing the yipping fox
Across the stream, jumping in
Joyous pursuit, she falls off the sofa
34.
Other dreams go to the beach
Push out in a kayak, paddle
To an island, light a fire
Cook two mackerel
35.
Deeper in the sea, sharks
Are not known to dream
The current brings them oxygen
It is not time yet to hunt or travel
36.
Dreams animate synapses, 100 million
pulsing cells makes three pounds of
Grey matter, makes pictures of
Ocean, beach-fire, sunset
37.
Several spiders in the bathroom
Corners are busy. Fine webs wobble
Trussed fly husks tucked up neat
Too late for a bedtime story
38.
Cloud re-gathers, partitions
The sky, the wind-dragons
Break these fences, roam
Bowing branches as they pitch by
39.
The cat waits, she is patient
Concentrated to an essence
Mouse-meat tastes like pork, delicious
Free-range organic mouse-pig
40.
The dog is surprised, falling
From the sofa. Her basket in sight, she
Chooses the armchair, she
Curls back into jumping, in dreams
41.
First hour of the day rolls over
Into the second, the shadows in
The kitchen jolt, the wind blows
The cat pounces
42.
One sperm makes it, all
The way into the egg, the
Journey is made in stages
The cell begins to divide
43.
Two rows of wine brewing
In glass, on top of the bookcase
To catch rising heat, to harness
The warmth of the living room
44.
Nothing under cat’s paws
But grass, the flavoursome mouse
Dodged into the thicket, the cat
Strolls away, unaffected
45.
Wind swoops the dark beach
Catching sand as it spins
Trailing spray, turning out
Against the swell, offshore
46.
The water in the old granite trough
Flat glassy black, reflecting a rectangle
Of constellations. One cupped leaf
Floats in a block of universe
47.
There is always one spider
In the bath, alternating
Standing very still with another
Scrabbling offensive upwards
48.
There is always one slug
In the shower, trailing, trailing
Over the tiled wall, no-one
Knows what it is looking for
49.
Woodlice gather in a fallen
Apple, they have made
Tunnels all through it
An edible house
50.
A moth zigzags at
The lamp, jerking
Across the room like
A series of hiccups
51.
Cat re-stalks her mouse
She can taste the soft delectable
Flesh, killing is a function
Of cat, tooth and claw
52.
Mouse in mouth, cat struts
Across the lamplight from the
Window, a clear cut shadow
Attached at her heels
53.
Juice oozes, drop by audible
Drop, from the flat apples
Under the press plate
Into a five gallon bucket
54.
On top of the wood-burner
Is a pile of stones, all confiscated
From the dog, she has
Three more hidden in her basket
55.
Sky traffic passes under
Stars, light that travels towards
Looks different to the light
That travels away
56.
Transformation by worms
Happens in the magic box of the
Compost bin, what we don’t eat
Will feed a garden
Comments