While Children Play on a Tyre Swing…

I am re-posting this as an entry for EIF Poetry Challenge #16 – Nature Poetry. I feel like nearly all my poems use nature in their imagery and so I am using an old one. I hope that’s allowed.

Out of the Cave

This spring the green is wild,
profuse and supreme, exotic and extant
- the white cane chair
left on the lawn
seems to float in clovery billows.

Over a mower's roar
and the whispered conspiracy of the wind,
the children's voices
are cheerfully elemental 
like the clatter of rain.

Painted shadows tangle, restless and involuntary;
and dancing grass tips gesture and curtsy;
shuffled leaf-piles quiver timidly -
a choreographed colour spectrum
as perfectly conglomerate as an artist's palette
or the piling silver of a waterfall.

We are the blind but chaotic worms
joining fearlessly, ignorantly in
with the spinning clock of seasons...
the layering of the earth,
the measured perfection of decay.





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