220th miracle is.... weasel poo




211
A trug of frozen apples, hard as
Quartz pebbles, catch the light
Crystal-coated, wondrous, paled
Palm-sized apple plunder

212
The orchard apples drop to grass
Are gathered up by tub and carted
To the freezer, frozen up, hauled out
To defrost, squash, ferment

213
First light halos the demi-johns
On the dining table. Tints of
Translucent yellow, tones of
Red from rose to ruby

214
Another resurrection
Of an ordinary day the light
Ascending through the morning
Colour gradient

215
Malcontent to find myself
Awake so early, until
I draw the old velvet curtains
On this panoramic anomaly

216
The valley is flooded with mist
The moors appear as a series
Of Caribbean pirate islands
Not where I expected to wake

217
This view opens my frown, it
Nudges acknowledgement, I am
Laughing at myself, at my quick
Mood-skip

218
My decision is to make coffee
And sit, watching the colours
Change, outside, the pink
Underbelly of mackerel cloud

219
Somewhere in the fridge is a tin
Of coffee. This week we are drinking
Vietnamese Weasel. I picture the sacks
Of beans on the quayside in a monsoon wind

220
Maybe this started as a practical joke
But whoever ground up the beans from
The weasel’s poo was on to a good thing
Although the flavour in my cup is synthesised

Comments

Lisa Southard said…
Thank you for the follows and the +1s! xx
15 November 2011 at 20:15
Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Contact Pants Conundrum

Image
There is weather today, I do note it: take a few moments to reckon the size of a cloud (big) and the frequency of rain (sporadic.) Centre of my interest though is a stack of magazines. Not the fashion kind. This is martial arts research. I'm not even sure what it is I'm looking for, but intuition calls loud. A range of old adverts skew some amusement. Contact pants, for example. Pants are not trousers where I come from. They are underwear. Professional contact pants: improved smirk value. But why would a person be likely to purchase a grappling hook and a lock pick set? For specialists and hobbyists only, the blurb assures. Guidance on the pheromone spray that attracts women against their better judgement? I doubt it works any more proficiently than the mysterious potion that defines your muscles while you sleep. But, then: I wonder is some sprayed on this paper? What was my intuition thinking, making this ghastly shout… Tea break time. There's a lot of words...
Read more

Spring Is Ticking

Image
It has been a while since I wrote a blog post - I have been writing books, and keeping a diary, the days and the work aren’t lost, just ticking quietly in a corner. [There’s a little dust in that corner but the shelf is made of strong oak planks, and the light is enchanting. A plant grows in a pot, it spouts leaves. A half candle stands in a china holder.] At Paddock Garden (properly titled Paddock Garden Orchards, I am a lazy typer) a tree corral has been constructed. It contains persimmons which may not have survived the recent cold blasts and heavy rain, along with some happy pepper trees, bladdernuts, and plum yews. We plan to underplant and interplant extensively in this concentrated area. Around the grounds also we have begun some windbreak hedges, mostly of elaeagnus and hazel. We have a line of sapling native oaks edging the spinney. The first of our camping bay areas is growing emerald grass that was seeded last autumn; the second has recently been seeded; the last three need ...
Read more

September's End

Image
September is all but done. Our fingers are purple from plucking berries, scored by thorns, sore and satisfied. How lucky we are, and how grateful! Through the cold spring, and the soggy summer, we have worked to make this place more and more beautiful. We are charming sustenance from the soil with our toiling; using the present to craft a kinder path- a tree-lined, fruit-bearing way.  And so here we are, in autumn, a time of harvest, glut, and storage. A time to plant trees, a time of festival. Our lives are seasonal, tidal, temperate, held in repetitions that are never the same; variations of repeating patterns, a common uniqueness. How lucky we are, and how grateful! Pollinator friendly saplings added to  the firepit hedge, lower field.
Read more