As I Drive Away

As I drive away from the park 

where I've been sitting 

looking at trees, and writing,

I see him squatting 

atop a wooden table 

in the gazebo near the pond.

He wears a hooded jacket;

a small back-pack clings

to his hunched shoulders.

It's only 4:15. Already

the cold hunkers down

and the slow mist comes in.

I wouldn't like to be homeless

tonight, I think, shivering

as I drive away.



[Poem #94]

Shared, years later, in Writers' Pantry #37  at Poets and Storytellers United.

The Man in Malang

(Central Java)

He stepped
from a shop doorway,
stood.

Our eyes held.
Then I was past
in the taxi.

A fair woman,
considered beautiful
there.

And he
lean, dark,
piratical.

Not Indonesian.
Too tall, curly-haired ...
a mystery.

That was all
until, back home,
headline:

These men missing,
believed dead.
He, centre photo.

Portuguese engineers,
East Timor take-over
(1979).

Already escaped
that day?
Or

visiting
and went
back ... ?




[Poem #86]

Sharing this, years later, with Poets and Storytellers United for Friday Writings #149: The Joy of Walking Away. (Not exactly on prompt, which fortunately is not compulsory, but at least it involves leaving.)

Mary, Queen of Scots

I wasn’t seduced by you
in my youth, despite
glamour, romance and tragedy.
Elizabeth was my hero:
brave, intelligent Queen
who wrote poems, loved pirates.

But in Edinburgh,
seeing that grim black rock
overshadowing your palace,
I thought of a 17-year-old
fresh from the court of France
with its dancing and dressing up.

Myself, I thrilled to Edinburgh
and the great rock –
yet I almost understood.



[Poem #62]

Shared 20/9/2020 with Writers' Pantry #38 : Ominous Times at Poets and Storytellers United.

Brief Encounter

In the waiting-room
a baby wailed,
held to his mother’s shoulder
as she stood at the counter
her back to the rest of us.

He was bald and pale,
swathed in white.
The huge sound of his distress
shattered the air.

I sent him a beam of love
across the space.
Immediately his cry stopped.
He raised his head,
looked straight at me,
held my gaze and smiled.

Shared with Writers' Pantry #40 at Poets and Storytellers United, 4 Oct. 2020.

[Poem #59]