Getting On

Leaving the bedroom door ajar
of dreams, spiralling
straight down
round the stair.

Seeing smells only birds hear
Tasting notes of a tune
being combed through bare trees
by the wind, remembering . . .

A wondrous naïvety!
Before knowing the names of colours

Unearthed pathways
on summer afternoons
Discovering newly found memories
opening dust-forgotten drawers.

A child’s tattered vest

Gale-blown rags
Hedge caught near a field gate.

Remembering . . .

They don’t make old countries
like they used to.          



© 1998 Paul Davies & Black Cat Communications
All rights reserved