passing traffic...

              through old glass their lights

                        shifting colours & shadows

work bound—

drizzle in wind

smarts my face

                   under clear water...

                   for a moment the coot

                   becomes a black dart

open honey pot...

a line of ants march in

and out in parallel

                      swell of the river—

                      a few raindrops cling

                      to each bare branch

at the day’s end...

by degrees the sun

turns the houses gold

     melancholy day—
     on the concrete ground

     a dry shrivelled leaf

      still clear day—

      a sudden gust frees

      a deluge of leaves

local restaurant...

I choose to be seated

by the goldfish tank

grey dusk—

moving branch shapes

join the fallen leaves

from the valley floor...

the ends of a rainbow

join two distant  hills 

almost dark...

between high-rise blocks

a band of  gold light

in a clear blue sky

            just one...

white cloud

after rain...

the ground covered

in skeletal leaves

St. James' Park, London - November 2012

                   the lake at dusk...

                   suddenly a passing coot

                   gives a goose a peck

-------------- Branches --------------

                 waiting for a bus—

                 a crow lands nimbly

                 on a thin branch  

                  park drinking fountain...

                  my boyhood memories

                  clogged & rusty

         frantic moment...

         swan & gulls squabble

         over a slice of bread

moving left to right...

a huge sun emerges

from behind cloud

mid-afternoon—

a low sun jiggles

on the window pane

sky veined with orange—

on the clipped hedge

a layer of fallen leaves

                       (Trafalgar Square, London - October 2012)

                                busy city centre—

                     such a radiant smile
                     from a passing stranger

                 under overhanging trees

                      the stillness of a duck

                 on the park’s lake

                          seasons change—

                          yet throughout

                          the river flows

from the moving train...

flashes of wine red

all along the green bank

                      weather on the turn—

leaves on the lawn

                      a myriad of colours

      at the lakeside’s edge...

every other bush

glows crimson red

sunken garden—

on a red berried twig

a frayed spider’s web

a child again...

popping balsam seed pods

by the riverside

                                    open-air café—

                        a mix of birds bustle 

                        over a few crumbs

in a blue sky

strewn with white clouds...

pale silver moon

stiff breeze—from

the landing prickly case

a conker explodes

city centre—

a warm smile from a stranger

    and the sun seems brighter 

trodden on...

a dandelion growing

in the sandy beach

lights of the town—

silhouettes of geese drift

across  the sky

train delays—through

the dark carriage window

clouds bursting with light

              windswept...
              a dandelion flower

              on the roadside lawn

screech of seagulls...

their reflections colliding

in the mirror sea

     

                  

         just above the river...
         cabbage white & damselfly
         briefly cross paths

           

second day in a row...

a downy white feather

clinging to the footpath

dazzling sunshine—

a dry green leaf

descends into shade

muggy afternoon...

my rucksack is pulling

me to the ground

August weather's in and out—

today the sun shines brightly

and the nets billow

daybreak—the hum

of traffic mixing

         with the honking of geese 

thrusting upwards

through the unknown bush

a blackberry spear

    empty courtyard—four

    buddleia spikes move lightly

    from side to side