photo: this winter, I often walk with my new friend, the poet John Berryman, who inspires me when I see a sky like this.
the grey sky
like a bad omen,
a large ink blot on the duvet
but the rainbow offers me peace
and hope, if it exists,
we shall see tomorrow
if the hands still move in the morning.
photo: Tahunanui, a short swim
under an uncertain sky, then this reward
I will stretch my day from one step to the next in the rustle of frozen dust. Homeless thoughts will creep into my mind and as soon as the light ends I will get tired of moving and I will rest
but on rainy days you would wait for
the transformation of the landscape
through broad strokes of light
you were smiling and
remnants of the storm hanging from your eyelashes
you were still shivering
you had found
Something
in your veins
or else in your DNA
which would lit up your eye
On my way to Penally, Wales, December 2018, canon, ©Sylvie Gé Continuer la lecture de Erosion and rainbows
