Apple tree not yet in leaf
magnolia blossom already falling.
The days are long
there is time for everything.
No one knows
where the frontier is.
We lie waiting
sharing the same dream.
No one comes to the gate anymore.
Primroses cover the path.
Only the north wind rattles the latch.
Red-leaved maple in spring
looking autumnal as though
the end and the beginning
were the same moment.
Small world
little spider
tiny midge
caught in the web.
Occupied with remembering
and forgetting.
A lone feather
drifts across the roof.
My mind is in flight
but I have lost my way.
Heart beat.
When I wake up
I am eight years
old again.
I must have slept
and dreamed
the passing years.
Another working day
comings and goings
crows on the roof
magpies in the high hedge
blackbirds listening for worms
on the lawn
worms turning
the earth
turning.