Some Distant Sound

Pockets and past

And sewing machines
Things that look beautiful
Shoes and old beams
A window, some train tracks
A storm on the horizon
Silhouettes and echoes
Falling trees
On lines of grass
Duck splash, wave lash
Past and present sensibilities
Thoughts forlorn
Unsure of where to go
Quiet voices
Faces that we do not show

Hands now held by other palms
Lips and eyes disguised
Like psalms
His wave, her laugh
An awkward gait
A tent, a room, a moment
Still unarranged
A jumper, the smell
The touch, the fit
The pattern, the pockets
The memory of it

Like shouts over the hills
That you never quite can hear
So you still sense
Something there
You wish
Might disappear

1 comment:

David Harris said...

More beautiful work. Really glad you're putting stuff up here again. you should check out this guy: www.padraigomorain.blogspot.com