Remembering Gary Snyder
…
I came in early
from working
on a day
I’d long planned
to cut back
over grown shrubs
in the garden.
…
But then the rains came
a grey mist at first
blowing steadily
from the west ridge
over the lee
of the Oak wood
I sat in the kitchen
…
The back door
had been open
most of the day
I watched rain falling
and recalled
for some reason
the first time
I’d read through
Regarding Wave.
…
Gusting winds
of a summer gale
blowing in off
the Irish Sea
swept through
the Birch
at the top of the garden.
…
Littering the soil
with its leaves
I live in a small house
in bad weather
the place
takes on the feel
of a small ship
buffeted by high seas
swept by Westerlies.
…
©robculllen18032021
…
