I woke in the night and wrote the first draft of this post's poem. This is not something I do often.
It concerns the Lyrid meteor shower which was visible this week in Devon. It all happened pretty much like the poem says.
he happened to wake
at the optimum hour
the bathroom window
was a dark blue square
stained by the street light
he chanced to see
friction lines cut the sky
on waking he will question the memory
I appear to be in a very prolific phase at the moment.
This poem too is a little observation.
one hour in
we were at the stage
when everything takes on
an infinite aspect
and so were running around the house
taken with the newly revealed size of it all
and the distance between the rooms
a picture caught me
an etching of a dress
I stood and watched all the straight line dance
it does not last long
you are soon carried on
smiling into the next phase
Here is Laura Gibson, I Carry Water.
Until next time.