trees

——–~”o”~——–

                      hold on

            that sun
            on the
            outer leaves of the
            small laurel tree

            in the centre of
            the cleared ground
            only happened
            because there was
            a gap between
            the terraced houses

            and the wind
            had stopped

 

 

 

 

——–~”o”~——–

 

 

 

 

                                                                            St. Mary Magdalene’s
                                                                                          ground

                                                                  the young mother has turned
                                                                            pointing to the trees
                                                                  birds fly off and land

                                                                  the toddler parks her
                                                                            bright pink scooter
                                                                  takes a few steps forward
                                                                            and points

                                                                  further on
                                                                            the toddler is now ahead
                                                                            standing among the pigeons

                                                                  when the mother appears
                                                                  from behind the flower bed
                                                                  carrying the scooter

 

 

 

 

——–~”o”~——–

 

 

 

 

                           Marion Park

                when you think you are
                           looking for something
                anything can seem a clue
                           to find it
                I have taken 18404 steps today
                           to sit here on this bench
                no body trees are still
                           just the cracked earth
                like a map of London
                           with cigarette butts and
                           sudden flies

 

 

 

 

——–~”o”~——–

 

 

 

 

                                                        1963

                                    an evening-green tree but a too blue sky

 

 

 

 

——–~”o”~——–

 

 

 

 

                           1968

                in the cities
                the walls of shadows
                receded from the page

                inward

                the bay was foggy
                the bridge lights
                hung – from overhead to

                the other shore -

                there were solitary
                hills with a small tree that
                reached over the

                boroughs and districts

                the ceiling was bottle green
                the light was a triangle
                and Batman paused

                under his cowl

 

 

 

 

——–~”o”~——–

 

 

 

 

                                                                                                the sky
                                                                                                low

                                                                                                peppermint

                                                                                                the lone
                                                                                                tall

                                                                                                elm

                                                                                                the topmost branch
                                                                                                finds the
                                                                                                green cloud

                                                                                                creamy
                                                                                                pushed down, bent
                                                                                                slightly so it

                                                                                                twists round then
                                                                                                back

                                                                                                and round

                                                                                                and round –

 

 

                                                                                                ‘storm coming

 

 

 

 

——–~”o”~——–

 

 

 

 

                                1969

                chrome and
                plastic control

                turned

                waiting for the
                picture to warm up

                the snow lay
                dirty now
                by the roadside
                and the tree

 

 

 

 

——–~”o”~——–

 

 

 

 

                              radar-blinking,
                              the two
                              space-ships made love while
                              thirsty giraffes peered by; the water

                              in
                              the bough of the tree
                              leaf-winking
                              the silver
                                         Venusians
                                         ‘s eyes
                                                    peered
                                                    from
                              the knot;

                              African mountain
                              the tree on the
                              horizon

                              danced

                              madly and quickly, then

                              stopped

                              and

                              w      a       i       t    e  d

                              for the stars
                              in the mauve sky

                                                    …daytime

                              contemplating the ancestral tree
                              the sheep skull
                              side of the mountain

                              from the hollow of its eye
                              winked a helicopter
                                         grinning
                              as it c i  r   c    l     e
                                                      d
                                                 t
                                           h              o
                                      r           u
                                           g
                                   h
                             t
                                          h
                                                     e
                                                s k   *        !
                                         to one side of
                              the green
                              silhouette leaf
                    
                              green sparks

                              everywhere

 

 

 

 

——–~”o”~——–

 

 

 

 

                                                                                hot summer morning

                                                                                it quickly
                                                                                clouded over
                                                                                the wind blew
                                                                                the trees the thunder
                                                                                rumbled

                                                                                in a dark corner

                                                                                C sat -

                                                                                her suntanned
                                                                                legs in white
                                                                                socks and a pink
                                                                                dressing gown -

                                                                                pulling faces

 

 

 

 

——–~”o”~——–

 

 

 

 

            1968

            seamlessly
            grey sky

            brown
            treetops

            and the
            single
            black
            lamp post

                      …walk on by

 

 

 

 

——–~”o”~——–

 

 

 

 

                                                              blue and red

various lengths of tubular bells hang from a cheap roof-pagoda over the sunny rooftops.   There is a breeze, treetops sway but the bells never
                                    quite
                                                      touch

 

 

 

 

——–~”o”~——–

 

 

 

 

                                                                                                morning in
                                                                                                Shrewsbury Park
                                                                                                reading POW comics

                                                                                        under the apricot sky
                                                                                        I was wondering what had
                                                                                        happened to the blue sky
                                                                                        by the big oak tree

 

 

 

 

——–~”o”~——–

 

 

 

 

                                                                Charlotte’s
                                                                warm
                                                                hand

                                                                right

                                                on the horizon
                                                by the

                                                                sea

                                                a single
                                                                orange
                                                                crane

                                                holding –
                                                                cables thrumming –

                                                the wide
                                                                land-
                                scape
                                                                swaying

                                                and

                                                to the left a

                                                solitary
                                                family of
                                                wizened trees

                                                held

                                                by decades
                                                                of wind

                                                in a climb
                                                uphill

                                                caps
                                                pulled down
                                                over their heads

 

 

 

 

——–~”o”~——–

 

 

 

 

                            Thich Nhat Hanh

                  quiet
         the past
         has already happened,
         the future
         is yet to come
         we only have
         the present moment
                    behind him
         then
         through the window
         a branch of the fir tree
         leaned
         up and down
         in the wind

         nodding

 

 

 

 

——–~”o”~——–

 

 

 

 

                                             the window

                          below, different tree
                                    tops
                          above, iron clouds with
                                    pink fringes
                          in the middle, clean
                                    turquoise
                          far away
                                    high mist
                          and two power lines
                                    cutting slightly
                                    diagonally and
                          diverging slightly

 

 

 

 

——–~”o”~——–

 

 

 

 

                                                                                              after a lot
                                                                                              of rain

                                                                                    above the horizon
                                                                                    a line of white clouds
                                                                                    hang, darker clouds
                                                                                    pass by

                                                                                    in front a line of
                                                                                    young trees, branches
                                                                                    in odd directions

                                                                                    and about, children
                                                                                    argue about their
                                                                                    football match but

                                                                                    one of them
                                                                                    accedes

 

 

 

 

——–~”o”~——–

 

 

 

 

                           mauve sky

                the tree branch
                shifts across the streetlamp
                in the breeze

                the top-floor window
                light goes out

 

 

 

 

——–~”o”~——–