Au Revoir Summer?

wet1

Summer doesn’t officially begin until June 1, or June 21 with the Summer Solstice, according to some.

But a few warm days in early May lulls you into that typical false sense of security, leaves you thinking summer may have come early.

Then, of course, the heavens opened and May returned to its usual, not entirely unexpected mixed bag of meteorological mayhem.

wet2

And that’s just it, the downpour reminded me of many previous Mays, and by all accounts the temperatures will be almost back down to single figures by the weekend. This is a normal May.

Great.

That’s why I said ‘Au Revoir’ at the start. So, like the French might optimistically put it, until we meet again, dear summer…

Here’s hoping.

wet3

© copyright words and images rp

Rain in the Air

I am in the eye
of the dove sitting high, a silhouette
on the dark rising evergreen. The wind
which blew the morning washing dry
has left,
not even the birch sees fit to move, yet
look closely at the stillness, through
the mask of shade – drops are

falling.
A lone fluff of dandelion floats
in new currents unseen; a breeze,
faint and cooler, has arisen from
beyond the bare stripped fields,
autumn’s presence
whispering through the seeping
light of the year

© copyright David Barker 2014

A Still Life of Gerberas

The gerberas you were given
had all wilted within two days.

The thought that counted
didn’t linger beyond its significance,

save to remind you to move on,
that old things are thrown away

© copyright David Barker 2014

Airport Lounge and Sky

One smile doesn’t mean I’m happy –
I’m sad without spilling a tear. I thought
everyone was down, tired of asking
why – while getting just silence in
return. Here we are all lost in
our worlds, a myriad tableaux
from which we never look out,
only in at more palatable realities,
images of love, at faces we think
we know, at war games’ killing digits,
the President’s cool tally on a screen.

There is no country here, no flag, no
dreary song to pledge our allegiance.
Whatever hue our skin
or babble we mouthe can’t disguise
that we’re all kids of Eve gently
penned into this digital snare.

She looks at me, wondering. I sense
more presence in a mannequin
brushing by, the shape comes
alive from no substance at all. Soon
we’ll be six miles high, encased in
blue sky like Air Force One, almost
untouchable, like you, Dear Maker, still
halfway round on your massive orb.
Can you ever know what you’ve done?

© copyright David Barker 2014

Silt

Over the fence he leans, speaks of
his time working
the huge hedgeless farms, decades

spent stretched on brown landscapes,
scenes etched into his eyes, where
I see him smoking

in deafening tractor cabs, minding
ploughs behind him
while trawling the rich draining silts,

for all our sakes – the interminable
trails of gulls in his tow

© copyright David Barker 2014

Come to the Couch (Beyond Big Book)

Beyond this I hear the cry of cows, the smell
the feel of their skin moulding my awkward repose.
Beyond this my cup is only ever half empty
in a world where size is no issue.
Beyond this line of poplar (or is it pine) lie my
yesterdays, those cold meaningless tomorrows.
Beyond this I’m just swallowed by the book
my brittle immortal wishes dashed
by the absence of my name
on the crisp yellowing leaves. And
beyond all this my sojourn on rock seven is
edged by a forgetting black, plucked gently
by wall to wall pain.

© copyright David Barker 2014

http://www.mymodernmet.com/profiles/blogs/joel-robinson-photography?utm_medium=referral&utm_source=pulsenews

Great photography by Joel Robinson

Ordinary Thinking

Poised, Dorje smiled at her:

“Try to think of today as
a beginning, full of possibility.

Each day springs
afresh, like you, from
the uncreated centre, your only
reality.

And your shoelace
is undone”

copyright David Barker 2014