Narcissus can’t hold a candle
to me,
at once both King of Colorado —
entitled hobo of Nowhere.
Look there! That’s my face in the sky,
cacti and mesas my sole friends,
watching while I sift through the shards
of cultures few suspect.
Though none believe me now, riches
and the future are mine;
these silent silver craft
haunting me,
they’ll be all around you soon —
I am digging their past.
Copyright Francis Barker 2020
copyright Francis Barker 2019
Daffodil Girl
I took a picture of you.
The one where you’re cupping a daffodil,
kneeling in the sacred space,
where you wear your sky blue coat
with the sun in exaltation,
as if shining from your April face,
so round and vibrant and pink,
leaving me to the sombre shadows,
out of sight on the nether side.
And I was some strange Narcissus,
making sure I saw myself when
passing shop windows, always critical,
so self-absorbed and vain –
though far from glorious.
But I still remember that image,
the delicate touch of your fingers
on the flower, all caring and giving.
So thanks for being you,
for making me see beyond
this paltry vision of myself.
image and poem © copyright dfbarker 2012
poem taken from collection ‘Anonymous Lines’ available at amazon.
image partly digitally altered from a larger original.
Ciscography 