(a)
Harvest.
1
Alone
Stooping in the garden
Like a gnarled tree
Waiting for the axeman
to call
And you
Already lopped
Not a leaf
To remind me
2
White flesh of wood
Spread
Over the russet pathway
Where once we ran
Larking
Looking for
(a place to lay your cloak)
A willow hung
Hide away
And the grandchildren laughing
their newness
through the old grove
unaware how autumn
brings such sudden changes
the pruning hooks
the Harvesters
the rasp of spinning saws
3.
High overhead
a single swallow
Brief shadow on the sun
Trevor John Karsavin Potter
September 8th. - 10th. 2015.
-----------------------------------------
(b)
The Widowers Complaint.
For the sake of propriety
Your son forbade us to meet -
although we were obviously
far gone in love
and had been so
for more than fifty years -
the chance to put an old wrong right
now made nigh on impossible
This is how the loyal offspring
(so caring and so loving)
like to manipulate their elders
once retirement age has passed -
Second childhood is perceived
to be hovering in the wings -
and happiness with a long term lover
ruled distinctly out of court
Dresden porcelain ornaments
displayed inside a cabinet
provoke a similar strict behaviour
from those rich enough to own them
Not to be tarnished
Not to be moved
Not to be placed beside
an inappropriate partner
Not to be exposed
in an unbecoming light
All signs of extra - mural frolics
kept under lock and key
But we who are old were young once
and have not yet lost the strength
to challenge those who would keep us
from our less than perfect selves
We can still kick up a rumpus
and foment the odd surprise
Trevor John Karsavin Potter.
September 24th. - 25th. 2015.
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