Thursday, 21 April 2016

April poems 2016/21

A snowy morning--
by myself,
chewing on dried salmon.
  • Matsuo Basho

A father I once knew,
in the days when the Beatles were still together
and Pink Floyd still played gigs to small audiences,
sent his son to Scotland
to make a man of himself.
Hard to believe, I know, but this was before mobile phones
and computers and iPads and mobile dongles –
we relied n notebooks and cameras the size of handbags;
public telephone boxes which took a stack of two pence pices.
As luck would have it, Ben Nevis shook snow
from a hundred heavy clouds,
isolating the peaks
and dragging down the telephone lines
until all he could do was read and write poems
and partake of the few pastimes in the cottage let.

Ben Nevis
occluded by snow in May
colouring book

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