The Autobiography of a Tin of Peaches

I don't like this talk about "shelf life"

or labels that say "best before",

and I do wish that man wouldn't put back my can

'cos She reckons it's been on the floor.

I heard that comment about me looking bent,

but it's ‘cos I got pushed out of true,

and here in the dark things look pretty stark

for these young tins just cover the view.

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Small world.

Pale hardness, a gallery so smooth

whose upward turning curves submerge

with swell of that resuming sea,

which swirls and skelters to the top.

Yet she who rides the sky

with that great pull and orders forth to ebb again,

so from this mollusc’s empty home

the brine does gurgle, every drop

to issue forth, meander back,

round black rocks burnished,

never ...

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Bramble.

And when the slanting sun assaults the eyes,

to search by Braille the harvest of this bush,

chance with fruit bloodied hands, its spikes,

regret my weakness with the pruning hook.

For when this season comes its yearly round

and taste buds fruitly turn to thoughts of pies,

this briar mass, invasive though I’ve found,

gets yet another stay, though patience ...

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                                                            The Approach.

                                           Heady warmth at first to drowse the eyes,

                                                                                                       foreboding of the storm that lies

                                                                                         not fa...

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