beside[s] the lake

parched grass

& unripe berries

 

thunder

the small dog

barks back

   

I

am

. . .

nothing

but

an

acre

of

wasteland

buddleia

 

on the underside

of the bridge

water shimmers

 

no thoughts

but a cavernous blue

with swifts

   

japanese maple

splashing an old metal

watering can

with dappled light

 

heat wave

a blue knothole

in the curve of

the arbour roof

   

a midsummer night 

honeysuckle scent 

from 40 years ago 

   

a coastal walk

to sort my thoughts out

      longshore drift

 
from 2011 

“Is that what’s-her-name

doing the voiceover?”

“Yes.”

   

it’s a buzzing fly that breaks the dog’s siesta

 

lifts the t-shirt, blue, for a breeze to calm the raging scar

 

the petal, yellow, propelled along the floorboard by a through draught

 

when did I last see the moon? podded beans

   

without work

my arms have gone

old man skinny

 

 
an extra shot

& the heat sparks

blue dragonflies

   

on the 17th floor

of foxglove towers

a bee enters

   

we bought

the chili plants

& it's been

cloudy since

   

& the dog runs

rings around my

deliberate steps

   

the train I only hear at night time rushes through