Why Crows Beat Gulls

Solstice 2012
Another beat closer to distant appreciation
Taken only by the odd prick of a camera
Phone. Growing deliberate so as not to break
The nice chat. The young curmudgeon cycles
Slower than the pure research product
Proven by a meeting where action points
The Way up a hill steeper than the doped
Competitors’. Race on.

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Wedding Song

for John and Henny

 

Today our gold is mixed and made
As we kneel and wash in this stream
That runs like breath across this glade
Into our common dream

 

And all our gifts are assembled here
On this day in the sight of the world
The ardour of our age grows clear
See the banners unfurled

 

Sing me for you and the wind blows true
Sing you for me and the wind blows free

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Poise

The cycling craze is upon us.
Living in our skin of Lycra,
Therapy in repetition of our knees,
The road’s song and its scholar
Teach us a halt

Is not acceptable; for if you stop
You have only your legs,
No matter how shapely, to fight
Inertia.  The lead unto temptation is inevitable
Running lights, runaway, through
A mechanical economical gradient
Down to imaginary equilibrium.

Punctuated.

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