Clare Whistler: October 2011

Monday, 31 October 2011

catching twelve means twelve months good luck
I will have to wait, chasing doesn't work-
standing under a tree in wind might

one slides down the back of my right shoulder
another strikes me at the throat
my hands lurch up, miss

leaves on their wind channels
suddenly change direction
like me - drift
dash
flop
bal-
ance

and all on that
fateful journey
down

Sunday, 30 October 2011

sunday october 30

Monday, 24 October 2011

Monday October 24

bees, wasps, flies
autumn, but warmed
leaves telescoped behind each other , depth lengthened
could wisdom focus like that with age, with autumn

thatch shedding like pick-a sticks

hawthorn tree emptied, soft edges overgrown and stringy

lie on the bricks
bathe in sun

body, bricks, earth
layers of roots
ancient earth
historic bricks
50 year old body
air
sky
universe
simple layers fathomed deep
charged with experience

my roots
stories I have lived
forbear history of this plot of land
this land
this natural world

dragonfly breezes in, melding into stone, dark on white brick
bee on my neck, jiggle it away
dragonfly clinging to sunned wall
and off past my leg to the pond
a slice of light

a huge butterfly opens it brown, orange, black and white flaps
moves like a heart

cascades away in unruly patterns

Wednesday, 19 October 2011

Tractor Trundle 2011 october 17

october 19 2011

the lock on the gate is broken
a supreme cloudless day
remains of our twig, acorn, leaf task shuffle along the edge of the pond
remnants of our path still there
just over a week and nature has subsumed our human journey
melded and melted in
and one marvelous purple marsh thistle shines where there was nothing
priest-like in the straight sun
the roof is collapsing
forecourt covered in straight lines of thatch
animaled off the roof, or is it birds

I found the 'key'
I found the stored handful of wildflowers
I found today's wildflower