over the tips

 over the tips

after the dig

a broken shard whites

in the light of day again

we read

‘marmalade’

or a shred of that name

over breakfast we discus

this thread from the midden earth

the tang of past tastes

in our grubby hands again

trowel 

just like larkin’s mower

just like larkin’s mower

it’s the same with a slow worm 

mercury tears running

headless 

stunned into immobility 

the mower silent

the will to restart stalled

what now 

pale and belly up 

the day vesiculates

turning away to sit it out

a grand design destroyed 

and you did it

RS Thomas ruminated

 RS Thomas ruminated 

he forgot 

did he not

the illusion of original sin

that made the conundrum 

that made the unravelling 

seem to be the answer

pray no 

pray rather for a prayer 

that is divest of ego

at the sharp edge of toppling

grasp at that

and hang on for dear life

the answer is on its way

i read this dread

 i read this dread

i am frightened by this

does time stop at the end of the world

don’t know and don’t know why

but i’m afraid of this

the cogs don’t fit

and all that shit

unable therefor to run away

from the magnetism

the broken light in the prism

fragmented you said

i’m sore afraid that this would happen

snappen kraken blacken

all the kings’s horses

all the king’s men

cannot put me together again

kiddo

blood

 blood

how many swear words

are brushed into this painting

run your fingers over the hardened paint

just wait ‘till i get you home

another poem by

 another poem by

RS Thomas

how often his poems hold you

there in disbelief 

dumbstruck 

turning his words

over and over

but it never is

or will be

but somehow

we turn his page 

for him

and we fall out

autumn morn

 autumn morn

then

a rustle in the leaves 

there’s something 

in 

there 

                points >>>

the dog cocks her head

the cat crouches 

it’s a breeze

across 

my coffee and croissant 

sunlight soft

on closed eyes

inhale

there …