NaPoWriMo Day 15. Two Old Trees.

Day 15. Half way through, how many of us are still going? Part of the problem is getting out to see other writers who are doing the same thing, while trying to do more writing myself. This is the latest time I’ve posted this month, I’m having a blackout, even the prompts on the web are not helping. It may all come crashing down this week, who else is finding it difficult? Another short poem, more of a note to myself, an image I like from our local park.

Two old trees in the park.

Each summer we walk into the pool of chilled air
beneath them to look through the leaves at the shaded blue
of the sky. Limbs moved by the salted seaside breeze
and stretching so far they hide us from the world,
we could stay a while and wait for the them to grow.


The Raven, Watching

I’m hung up on this Raven at the moment, I’ll get it out of my system soon. In the meantime you will just need to bear with me. Blame Ted Hughes.



The Raven sits in the empty branches,
biding his time now the snow has gone.
There will be food when the cold
drives people away.

Then there is the hierarchy of scavengers,
dogs, drunks, birds, for dropped bags and full bins.

A Raucous calling, not for pleasure
this sound, or family, a dark rainbow
strutting bluff, oversized black-eyed
head-weaving hunter.