We’re getting very closing to flicking the switch one last time on this project… just three more Fridays and the year is done… which is a little scary! But let’s not dwell on the end, as there is much light to fill the eyes. This week, Ashley leads us through an entrancing museum, Cindy plants a vivid garden and this Lost Shark flares his nostrils. Let yourself light up this Saturday!
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I reckon this is a museum.
There is a pony tailed docent
explaining to children
enamel’s extraordinary properties,
the color scale of cows and trees
There is a Wedgewood room.
I think the 18th century
game dish is my favorite
its handle shaped like a dressed rabbit
to be held in the fingers of a servant
portioning the main course for guests
and on the walls, botanic plates,
the common fig, grown for fruit
and ornament: for looking at
I consider this place
a history of the present
since here the light is
for fixed objects
and you and I move,
and children, and old banquets
AM
**********
CK
**********
Somewhere in this mirror is the boy
who ran down dirt roads
the scent of horses flaring
his nostrils.
Through spear grass and milk-
weed he would gallop
stooping to check under the water
trough for snakes —
red-bellied and brown —
before plunging his head to wash
the dust devils from
his unruly mane.
Today there are no wide tracks
the same summer sky is
a cruel spur in
my flanks.
Though at dawn when
the dog shakes itself from sleep
and the neighbours rooster
clears its throat
I can feel his kick —
that will to take
the bit between the teeth
and bite through.
GN


Love your poem Graham…and that fourth stanza had a fabulous ending.
thanks charles… am feeling so weary at present with the end of the year approaching, but the boy is still kicking!
wonderful…such a felt write graham
thank you claudia,