#1242 - naive

 

1242

27.v.23

4.148

naïve

 

in all the blossom street along

still fondly

the day roar around

and the risk of bitten

 

empires come and gone

how the past

could be much more  

 

one side the rain touches

the other is dry

 

the mountain remains

if the forest is felled

what’s left of the river runs on

 

smoke from damp smoulder

an autumn in spring

 

could be so much more  

 

mob wild for their sport

with shouting and horns

that’s how they fill up the valley

 

birch leaves flutter and turn

through the light

and here’s a same sun as before

 

without the canopy it would be more

 

pass house of the hill

and the Castle of Was

that’s us – we were great

and name selves so

but why is it doesn’t feel that way

 

when we could be more?

 

in the pine dark plantation

a rusted sign the tree grows over

 

a squirrel climbing pauses

with just what’s to hand, all teeth

so light the bare branch won’t sway

how steady swift, how deft at its day

the squirrel is so much more

 

more than the still woods

more than the breeze

 

meat and cheese and milk and bread

dogs whom wolves might attempt

were they chained  

 

wounded beast of a train goes by

tatty and the toilet’s bung

 

and could be so much more  

 

still climbing

still on the dog barking Sunday

still in the church bells rung  

 

then sex is our wild nature

it’s thing left

and could be more

 

beetles blacker than the path

each making its wobbly way

can’t care less

 

whatever you see here

it’s not very much

 

it could be so much more