Querulous car parps, pacific train horns,
reversing wagon insistently bleeping,
roads heavily aroar, throbbing with lorries,
some team hammering blocks, posts.Workaday world loud, brusque, busy,
drowning out bird chirps, surface stir
of leaves in mild breeze. Over such din,
rival dogs leave their challenges.And I am barely a part of it - just two hours
later today. I sit sipping tea, glad pain
has abated. Blue sky, cloud-grazed -
a mere backdrop in this auditoriumof purposes, warp and weft of money,
scheme and occupation, the noisy loom
of civilization, getting on, earning bread,
bumping along, looking for lift off.Of course worries straggled, snagged
then as now, in me as in everyone,
but I buried myself deeply in you daily,
our greater forge of passion's mettlewas to prevail against circumstance.
Ah, I break my vow to leave it out!
Yes, I am fleeing you full pelt now,
as moon leaves earth, an inch a year....
YOU ARE READING
February And Beyond
PoetryThis ark will take me through to springtime - 'the pretty pretty ring time'.