Wednesday, 21 September 2016

The Face In The Window

A face in the window. Pale face,
black glass. The frame painted
in faded farmyard burgundy,
the honey coloured stone of the wall
peppered with flint.

The journey to here
carried out in haste:
a poised energy 
by the green in the wood,
not rushed, although there’s no time 
to stand still… a pleasure
in movement.

Here, the waterwheel
that hasn’t spun
in a generation, green slime
on the paddle blades.

Something watches within the woods,
a red smudge of fox, the sky is an eye
and the eye blazes its gaze
to a place far below the earth
and somewhere close by
the barn owl, the blue wolf.

You take one last look 
at the face in the window. Turn
for home, a money spider dangles 
from the brim of your hat.

Photo: Su Joy 2016



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