Like an ocean freighter turning ...

today fades slowly, eases into night.

It carries a ballast of fallen petals,

has no pilot but the weight of hours.

 

About this pivot point we have lingered

outdoors. Tracing – for as long as we can –

the sun’s arc across a gasping planet.

 

Woken by an insistence of wrens, we saw

daylight moon rising over chimney pots.

 

We have freed a frantic butterfly trapped

by picture windows, watched foxgloves cast off

their white and purple vestment, seen cheerful

hollyhocks burst out like splashes of paint.

 

We have watered the persistence of poppies.

 

The year’s high noon unfolds in a flag-hung

horizon. Once crossed, there is no going

back, although we know what’s coming next:

 

summer will harden, tumble – like bombshells

dropped on purpose – down the keel of July.

Quiet as held breath, a bat skitters blackly

out of sight. Tongue-tied, we cannot name it.

  https://img.freepik.com/premium-photo/bat-flying-dusk-its-body-dissolving-into-shadows-night-embodying-twilight_181667-51837.jpg

 vi. 2025    

5 comments:

  1. Beautiful poem as usual Mark.

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  2. Richard Williams9 July 2025 at 23:09

    Love this Mark.

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  3. War like imagery, as nature grasps for survival. Your frantic butterfly I can embrace, as I find the same bewilderment in this world. Eloquent poem with your usual moving, evocative words.

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  4. Absolutely love this Mark. Inspirational stuff. Thanks.

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