Verse, a breeze 'mid blossoms straying,
Where Hope clung feeding, like a bee -
Both were mine! Life went a-maying
With Nature, Hope, and Poesy,
When I was young!
When I was young? -Ah, woeful When!
Ah! for the change 'twixt Now and Then!
This breathing house not built with hands,
This body that does me grievous wrong,
O'er aery cliffs and glittering sands
......
About the size of an old-style dollar bill,
American or Canadian,
mostly the same whites, gray greens, and steel grays
-this little painting (a sketch for a larger one?)
has never earned any money in its life.
Useless and free., it has spent seventy years
as a minor family relic handed along collaterally to owners
who looked at it sometimes, or didn't bother to.
It must be Nova Scotia; only there
......
I had written him a letter which I had, for want of better
Knowledge, sent to where I met him down the Lachlan, years ago,
He was shearing when I knew him, so I sent the letter to him,
Just 'on spec', addressed as follows, 'Clancy, of The Overflow'.
And an answer came directed in a writing unexpected,
(And I think the same was written with a thumb-nail dipped in tar)
Twas his shearing mate who wrote it, and verbatim I will quote it:
'Clancy's gone to Queensland droving, and we don't know where he are.'
In my wild erratic fancy visions come to me of Clancy
......
I dreamed that, as I wandered by the way,
Bare Winter suddenly was changed to Spring,
And gentle odours led my steps astray,
Mixed with a sound of waters murmuring
Along a shelving bank of turf, which lay
Under a copse, and hardly dared to fling
Its green arms round the bosom of the stream,
But kissed it and then fled, as thou mightest in dream.
There grew pied wind-flowers and violets,
......
He saw her from the bottom of the stairs
Before she saw him. She was starting down,
Looking back over her shoulder at some fear.
She took a doubtful step and then undid it
To raise herself and look again. He spoke
Advancing toward her: "What is it you see
From up there always? -- for I want to know."
She turned and sank upon her skirts at that,
And her face changed from terrified to dull.
He said to gain time: "What is it you see?"
......
haiku : metamorphose
stillpoint explodes, bang
dark waters earth fire wind all ~
petals unfurl, soar
_____________________
hiku
~~~~~~~~~
still
•
......
Ik ademde in wat zij nooit zeiden
en noemde het zuurstof.
Schoon. Leeg.
Vrij van wortels
en van groei.
Ik groef me los uit hun dromen
tot mijn handen niets meer vasthielden.
Ik leek op niemand,
En niemand keek terug.
......
What is it that the heart desires?
A tide that shifts, then quietly retires—
Washing over the shores of soul,
In gentle ebb, in restless roll.
What is it that the heart seeks?
Like autumn leaves—
It changes colours with the air,
Then vanishes, without a care.
They tell us to hold steady,
keep the ground firm,
but the ground itself shifts—
silent adjustments beneath
the weight of old decisions.
Change rolls in like the tide,
deliberate, insistent;
some brace against the swell, while
others dive into its forward pull.
......
I relapsed today. Not in a drug way!
No!
Stop— it’s more complicated than that.
It’s okay, I’m fine,
I mean; why wouldn’t I be?
......