Blow Poem by Charlotte Peters Rock

Eyes closed upon the table
Arms folded for the night
Considering a blurred space

Late becoming early as the dawn
of springtime broke out birdsong
fluttering across the garden

Pink-pink sounds chinking in
Blue-green rising yellow-pink-peach
Leaves pushing from the alder

Still Slumping slightly in the button-back
Hands useless touching keys and elephant
inside a jacket pocket

Mind considering yellowed winter fog
tumbling into black unending holes
wailing out their hunger..

..slowly becoming a child
waking lonely in the hungry morning
Banging the cot bars

Picking up his glasses from the table
wiping the lenses on his handkerchief
checking for smears against the day

he yawned stood stretched stiff muscles
went awkwardly upstairs to fetch his son
trailing fog along the corridor


24Jan1997 CPR