Glenn Bagshaw Poems
Comments about Glenn Bagshaw
Afternoon In Summer
Cloud-popping, blue-raved summer sky
with light stuck out like a tongue:
you're the gorgon's gaze
to a warm, dry earth
charmed almost stone.
For voice the sweeping laugh
of wind's your way.
Even the morning-marvelling birds
are almost crazed in the bright wideness
of your tuned world.
They cry the sun-thrilled call of:
Sky! Sky! Sky!
Wings fling in tree-tipped reach of vaulted runs
sun-dialed in time-
Inches the touch of thrifty night-
and, with thumb smudged in shadows,
snuffs out the light.
I'Ll Clearly Disappear
I’m in my great-grandmother's old photo album
from ninety years ago, and I seem much the same.
Sure, I'm gloss-finished, black and white, and yes, some frayed.
Yet not so bad for my age. Looking much like her,
it's almost that I'm not just myself as the flow
of generations are now gathered, like the seas.
Much the same in one life, as photos make childhood
quicken once again. One picture's an aperture
to these past worlds. Once more boats sound in harbour's night.