Rory Hudson Poems

You are old now,
white-haired, stick in one hand.
Your black-business-suited son
speaks to you earnestly
...

(A senryu)

It's academic
when you ask people these days
...

Small boys, locked in a hopeful dream,
throw hapless stones into a stream -
resulting ripples may protect
the dream, until they intersect,
...

(A senryu)

Another rainless day -
farmer’s wife stares hopelessly
...

An old horse was put out to pasture
in these fields, having won many a race,
having been patted and fondled by many a dignitary and celebrity,
themselves now long forgotten;
...

In the forest at night
my good old horse
has lost his way.
...

In the corners of the church
rats are scurrying and scratching
on ancient floorboards
among the dust of ages.
...

(For Londiwe Buthelezi, who published a fine poem on the same theme here last week.)

Cupid is a foolish boy
who plays with hearts as with a toy,
...