In the park
we surround our pond
as if the numbers
had escaped the clock
and run off
to be whatever they
wanted to be.
You were only
3
standing with a stick
at 12 o' clock.
I formerly 3
now 6 o'c clock.
You shout
& hit the water
just as I hit it
with my stick.
We watched silently
as the ripples race
to each
other talk
embrace
& finally fall
silent.
Us talking
in ripples
'til the light
falls
and we can't see
what we are saying.
Donall, you write the most beautiful poetry. Not sure if this is for me or another H but whatever I shall say it is just peachy (gosh where did that come from?) Have I turned American? ? ? anyway, I just love love love the final lines, most beautiful, have often wanted to put those ripples into a poem myself but nothing ever quite made the grade. Yours does. HG: -) xx
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A novel concept from a very 'different but original going on unique' poet. Sid.