Blue

blue
today
there are no clouds
to mask the breathing space
the sun, manic and playful
holds my chin roughly
forcing my face
to the sky
look up
animate those dark eyes
break open your gaze
look up
above the grey tree line
above the uniform boxes people exist in
above the forlorn, thin wires
hanging between haggard timber poles
conducting a well worn tale
of power and currency
thin wires that
swing ever so slightly
in a quiet breeze
tinged with the residue
of a cold winter
look up
see this blue sky, so famous
this blue
will never be captured in paint
never with stage-managed words
look up
you need eyes
and a luminous heart,
to capture the real blue

💝 Happy New Year – strive to remember the place … 💝

dscn0321

There is a place,

a breathing space between where the neat hedge stops
and the garden next door splays,
where the moss spreads cool and green,
where the stars wink with aged beams,
where the spruce hare relaxes and dreams,
warming her fur in the yellowberry rays.

Let us go from this place where the shrill wind screams
down blackened roads and acrid dead ends,
clear of the coal mines and gravestone heads,
walk steadily forward, ignoring the dread,
and the clothes that are sullied and shred,
in search of that space between garden and hedge.

But the way is blurred and the path overgrown
and the memory of clear weather has strayed,
with time the burnished metal has dulled,
with time the mind needs to be oiled,
with time all the sparks have been culled,
so let’s search for the children to show us the way.

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Note: This poem was inspired by Shel Silverstein’s Where the Sidewalk Ends.

For my lovely children 💝