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skies

GLIMPSING THE STARS

I wake, as always at some dark hour, to pee –

make my way, as always, with utmost care

down the steep, narrow stairs then across

the dining room’s creaking floor boards

as silently as bare feet can. Afterwards,

I creep to the patio doors, hoping

to see the visiting fox my hosts have heard.

There are stars in the clearest of skies –

so many, as always surprisingly

so many,  I want to wake the household

but, instead, craning my neck, peer up

through the double glazing in wonder.

What would the fox, night’s denizen, see?

An old man in his pyjamas, singing

sotto voce, ‘I only have eyes for you,’

longing to go in the garden to gaze at

such mundane immensements!

 

 

 


UNDER NOVEMBER SKIES

The rain has stopped. We can hear only the wind

and a swollen stream – hidden beneath

the high moor’s golden fern – rush through a culvert

under the road, which glistens, after the shower,

in an unexpected shaft of sunlight.

Rain clouds are blackening the mountains

to the west but northwards, beyond bracken

and gorse that stretches seemingly to land’s edge,

through a gap in the hills, we can see the sea,

a sunny blue, and a white ship sailing east –

too far away to recognise her flags.

Chance has brought us here as winter comes. Love

stays us against the dark.

 

Note: this piece has been subsequently published in ‘A Jar of Sticklebacks’ – http://www.armadillocentral.com/general/a-jar-of-sticklebacks-by-david-selzer.