(1) A Tragic Event, Belsize Park 1985. (2) Four Short Poems. (3). September Poem. (Revised Version).

                 1.

       A Tragic Event.



On the ground - the boots.
Next to them - the body.
My first ever real life corpse
Lying there
In the dusk,
Still as a stone.

Something to note in the diary.
Something to snap on the phone.
A notable event,
A once in a lifetime story
To startle jaundiced eyes.
An accident,
A suicide,
A murder.
A dark chapter suddenly opened.
A nasty surprise.

The man had fallen
From the adjacent building
Without due notice,
Without due warning,
That sultry evening.
With luck the neighbours were all inside
Bewitched by the spell of the 6 o`clock News;
History should happen elsewhere,
Not by the communal stair.

The building was now strangely silent
An hour or so after the event,
The corpse left alone,
Covered by a scarlet blanket,
To keep it private, unscary
while awaiting the Constabulary. -
Absent the crying children,
Absent the squabbling parents,
Absent the loud radios
That have revved up my tinnitus
Each time that I walked this way.
Today - just this unearthly stillness
As if the whole world had paused -
Had stopped breathing.


Trevor John Karsavin Potter.
August 23rd. - 24th. - 26th. 2015.  

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                     2.

       Four Short Poems.


            The Hermit.


Born Underground.
Bombs falling.
Death will be no stranger.
           

            Love Poem.


You came to me in the hot night
Dressed in a kaftan of purest silk,
A glass of water in your hand.


              Postscript.


White paper,
Black lines criss crossing,
Leading nowhere.


             Celebration.


The fireworks were surely for us,
The Last Night Party irrelevant;
Your smile broke all the windows.


Trevor John Karsavin Potter.
July 4th. - August 3rd. 2015.

The little poem Celebration is dedicated to my dear friend Cilla who died on August 1st. We had known each other since our early teens. She is so much missed.
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              3.

 September Poem.


                           She loved me
                                                  and in September
She wore the curling leaves in her hair
                           As we walked by
                                                  the mist hued waters
Where geese with clipped wings dipped their beaks for bread

                           and later
                                                  in the park she held me
while the red moon rose while buzzed the night crazed gnats
                           and great boughs
                                                  dropped noon ripe apples
Into our waiting palms


                           Then quietly
                                                Hands clasped
                                                                         we drifted
                   Towards the dying embers of the sun
                           Out through white gates
                                     into a city
        Where hi tech threads of neon lights were spun
                               into a flimsy tent
                     Out dazzling the faded stars
                                Until autumnal
                                         mist
Dissolved all sense of wonder - and proved our love talk
dumb

And then you smiled                More loving than at night
And spilled a sudden clarity       Into the cold dawn light


Trevor John Karsavin Potter.
February 7th. 1965.
Final two lines, September 23rd. 1983.
Revised October 12th. 2012. - August 29th. - September 9th. 2015.