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Thursday 25 August 2011

Tomorrow may dawn fine.

Indoors, insipid fruit is out of season,
the flowers are forced and dyed;
the dye comes out in water.

Outside, seems far more natural.
I walk beyond the field of garlic
where children camp in summer

to rocks that strew a mini valley,
think how beautiful they are -
like viruses enlarged.
An infestation of a sort, perhaps.
I quite expect
to see them crawl away
in much the way that Paul Klee saw
aquatic stones take life.*

Between them, tiny rivulets
are tainted through the same unease.
The whole of nature
shares their question mark.

From here I take a chalk path
down the steep escarpment -
treacherous when wet,
but worn so much and wearing out
that even dry I slide.

The scenery has changed.
A river runs where man has merged
his blocks of concrete with the rocks
in blissful ignorance
of what the world has lost.
The tiddlers that I caught in childhood
are mostly floating dead.

I watch an artist load his brush -
leaf green and umber side by side -
to represent the river bank.
He does it with a single, brash
encounter. Masterly -
but could as well be some impurity.

*This in the Naples Aquarium: he watched forms apparently metamorphose between the various forms - animal, mineral and vegetable.


The Weaver of Grass said...

I think your poetry is improving as you now seem to be doing it every day Dave. I hope the same is going to happen to my drawing.

Louise said...

Personnaly I admire how you are able to write a new gem every day. Thank you for taking me on another journey of wonder.

Tabor said...

Complex images and a good environmental bent...like this.

Daydreamertoo said...

Beutifully weaved. Wonderful imgaery, such detail, even down to still slipping on the worn stone even when dry.

promising poets parking lot said...


if possible,

share with


we will do poem of the week beginning this week.

Carl said...

Awesome, moving and sad.

Hannah Stephenson said...

My favorite part of this is the last stanza, where we get to watch an artist working, watching. His painting is "brash" and "masterly"--these words and his treatment of the land seem important to your poem.

Anonymous said...

Very moving, reflections past and present, I can feel the deep sentiment here...

Windsmoke. said...

Very enjoyable imagery :-).

Victoria said...

My favorite parts of this terrific poem: the 3rd stanza with the rocks and the references to Klee. Nice, Dave.

kaykuala said...

Beautiful verse Dave! We walk through a journey of wonder cleverly led by you.

Dave King said...

Weaver of Grass
Thanks. Practice doesn't make perfect, I've found, but it helps things on a bit. I didn't see much wrong with your drawing when I was over there.

120 Socks
Good to have you along. The wonder is that I'm still writing, methinks!

Thanks for the interesting comment. Much appreciated.

Hi, thanks for your visit and response. Always welcome and always good to have.

promising poets parking lot
Thanks for the invite. Shall be along.

Which catches my mood when I wrote it, so much grateful thanks for saying.

Interesting response. I had originally intended that stanza to form the basis of a separate poem, but on impulse included it when writing this.

Good to have your comment. Thank you for it.

Thanks for the feedback.

That's useful to know. I thought it was one of the sections that worked reasonably well. Thank you.

Very generous comment. Thanks.

Mary said...

Dave, I love travelling with you through your natural world. And I can indeed envision that artist's brush!

Dave King said...

Thanks as always for n inspiring comment. Sorry my reply took so long.