Bridge End, October

As some attract lightning, and others midges,

I draw behind me a delicate rain –

hooves drumming lightly the steep, dry lane –

a confabulation of wall-eyed gimmers.

Thought of my thought, herd of my heart,

we jink in a flock, in a shoal, we turn.

The school bus – eventual, awful – passes

The obstacle of a rolling tin can halts us.

 

Jen Hadfield

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s