Working in a steel works to get the money to fly after you
I’d sit in the garden drinking tea in japanese raku bowls
reading your scribbled letters on blue flimsy airmail pages
I’m not sure to this day what made you say OK follow me
a crazy thing to do considering the secret you kept from me
I flew in and you kept up your pretence love closed my eyes
I spent some time in Connecticut and returned unannounced
opening the door listening to sounds in a darkened house
found you with him the secret was out and I closed the door.
“I love borders. August is the border between summer and autumn; it is the most beautiful month I know.
Twilight is the border between day and night, and the shore is the border between sea and land. The border is longing: when both have fallen in love but still haven’t said anything. The border is to be on the way. It is the way that is the most important thing.”
I think about those days I spent in America from time to time.
“I drank coffee and read old books and waited for the year to end.”
― Richard Brautigan, Trout Fishing in America
A house built for heroes
it’s a small house
a kitchen garden
and an acre
keep a pig
I dug black earth
I dug deep black earth
I lay horse shit
on top of the growing beds
and let worms do the rest.
I read poetry
in quiet times
AS Neil said play
is children’s work
growing should be
poets play too.