I would be rich
the day
I will not yearn
for nothing
no more

its ok to just breathe
be
not everyone would value that
or know how

some race Pigeons
some Horses
some other Humans

I decided the way of the Tortoise
was best for me long ago

A lone tree stands out
Against the stormy sky

On the far side of
The lawn in our garden

Surrounded by snowdrops
Quite a pretty picture!

Keith Wilson March 2017

A little man sat by my bed
As I lay there full of dread
I said "Do you ever sleep?"
The sight of him just made me weep

He lifted up his little cap
Then asked me what I thought of that
I said "Why don't you go away
And not come back another day"

Keith  Wilson.  Windermere.  UK  2017.

The rooks
Waddling
Up the roof tiles
Like drunken men

Keith  Wilson.  Windermere.  UK  2017.

All the passions of my long life
Are dust in the road behind me,
And all of that precious dust
Was nothing more than foolishness.
The trees around me
Have no names,
And the wind I feel
Blows from no direction.
The river I see is just a river
That stirs no memory,
And I know not where it goes
Nor whence it comes,
And I know not that I know not.
The rapids roar,
But they say nothing,
And I hear nothing,
But the sound they make.
I know the ones I love and loved,
And love comes flowing back to me,
And love is all that matters here,
By this river, under this tree.

I stand on the edge
of the obsidian water
that has pooled together
Touching the tips
of my bare toes
of my bare bones

I am curious
to see what lies
on the other side
of the water
and my reflection
beckons me
but it is different than I

I am strong
I am the swell of the ocean
I am natural
I am a petal refusing to bow to the rain
I am exposed
I am content in my nakedness

But my reflection is inviting
as she waves to me
to come over to the other side

I am falling head first
into the pool
and I feel every hair
being ripped and laid
perfectly in place
and I feel my face
become malleable wax

And as I emerge
from the pool
on the other side
I am gasping
My skin is red and smooth
My hair is shiny and long
My face is smiling and demure

But my ocean is a puddle to be stepped in
But my petals are to be plucked at any given moment
But my nakedness is to be shamed and clothed

And as I look around
a myriad of pools
surround me
with people
who are just as horrified
as I am

because we are not who we are.