Daydreaming under a city pergola
Daydreaming under a city pergola,
There was a time we knew each other,
When days were blissfully round
And words had a clearer sound;
When frost coated leaves seemed
Ornate and cherished,
Falling in Cavatina tones
From sycamores overhead;
But now, the season’s have changed
…
Splitting seasoned oak logs
For my sixtieth birthday,
The scent of old cognac
Mingled with horse traipsed
Tronçais acorns;
Fresh cedar smoke
Heading for a gold leaf moon,
Cupped in a celestial catapult
Poised to be flung across a galaxy
of dark matter and sacred years,
With whitecaps marking life…
Yesterday’s prayer flags
Danced in the sun
Today, icicles hang from them
Hesitant child
Gazes at the vast ocean
Clutching his fathers hand
Photo by: Jan Kopriva (Unsplash)
Local poet/writer. ‘There is nothing noble in being superior to your fellow man; true nobility is being superior to your former self.’ E. Hemingway. All ©️DMM
