We don’t have winds like this
Here in the shire
Right now the world is screaming
Squirming on its axis
'I am here!' it shouts
However much you **** me

A deafening rush
The trees could crush me
The battling branches break, fell me
The low clouds lumbar onwards
Indifferent, closing down
The last sneak of blue

The west-south-westerly whips
All grass and grain flat
Against dark earth
Freshly turned by the blade
Autumn comes abruptly this year
The leaves are torn to the ground

The path ahead a boil of branches
Lashing at me
The dry-gold giant Hogweed
Oscillates with insanity
The tall beeches mope and weep above
The wind an inferno
Its sound like steam is cleansing

The earth is separate today
It says '*******!'
The wind can hear me
It Shrieks at me
My heart beats a little faster
Once again that thought of oblivion
Curls up like the sea
Now I am diving under waves

26/8/20

They burst upwards

All around this evening

There and there and there

Trees, Trees, Trees

Smashing through soil

To a darkening sky

Limbs and fingers and hands

Trunk and twig

Coiling coronaries

Pressed to the sky’s last

Etchings

Monoliths

Earths loud art

Not solemn

Not peace filled

This evening

Trees , Trees, Trees

Explode from the earth

Like Kraken from the ocean

Belittling

Reminding us

Trees Trees Trees

Four hundred million years

Before you breathed

Trees Trees Trees

I have this thought…

Our lives like leaves in autumn
From high branches falling
A thousand shades are waving
Through spectral light
Then a scent, of earth
A cold nose and the sight
Of a warm glow

Four floors up
The old flat we brought our son to
The balcony where the parakeets visit
The tall beech and the rolling park beyond
The dense solitude of the estate all around
Pushing its edges into the earthy common
Its woods and mulched graveyards

And I am walking there
With no thoughts of future
Kicking through undergrowth

Through copse then open ground
The contrast deepening
The strangers thinning
I turn back for warmth

Four floors up, I find you sleeping
Four floors up, and I am falling

I walk along a trapeze,
palms sweaty, legs shaking,
refusing to fall either way.
to go left is to fall into a fire
for a life which burns my bones.
the people will smile upon me,
oblivious to the ash surrounding them.
to go right is to fall into soft trees.
the leaves caress my skin,
but the people vanish like smoke,
and I fall to the ground.
the exact middle is survival
until I reach the other side.

More puddle steps that everyday
Fall back again with water rain
More tiny drops of water blow
And concrete grasses wet the stone:
More morning hue that fills the trees
And vapid air that sets the breeze:
In spring, and yet with winters loud,
The shoddy days the world bestows:
Of quick sunshine in leaving days,
Sour grass set in mellow rays;
A cousin-friend to seasons like:
The April springs of Toronto life.

We love these Cottonwoods
Ygritte and and John Snow
living on a strong dangle
from a hillside angle

Connected at the Root
separate when they reach
to express their love for
their Father, Sun

Together as one
in the darkness below
Ygritte though
has long since passed

over the years
Snow grew closer
hugging branches
of his Beloved Ghost

The couple on our ranch
we've spent time admiring
the most.