An anti-climactic New Years day

The way that snow fall's

is in a hushing.

 

In the white-topped hedge

a bedraggled collection of nest building material,

all that is left of what once was home to its feathered occupants now long gone

doubtlessly having fought turbulent ways to

sunnier destinations.

 

In the slushed street

a woolly clad boy pulling his sledge

to  a deeper snowed on location, peers at me

from between scarf and bobby hat.

 

His Father brings up the rear

listening to what sounds like an angry cell phone voice.

 

All feels like an empty aftermath

all seems lamentable.

 

The leaving of the birds, the end of a love affair

and another yearly subtraction to my life.

 

Yet the little cherry red-nosed lad

oblivious to these sadnesses, is for now blessed

with what only matters to himself

 

and is unlikely to have been aware of

the remains of the bird's nest

my jealousy of his innocence

or his Father's colder than Winter tears. 

 

◄ When footlights dim.

Collaterally damaged ►

Comments

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LEON STOLGARD

Wed 5th Aug 2020 10:36

With your ' that will do nicely ' concisely one, worded comment Paul accompanied by the kindly, words by Shifa and like by Abdul, you guys have exceeded my less than moderate expectations

for which I humbly thank you all.

ps. have taken my metaphorical polishing cloth to the title in order to clarify its meaning a little better.

L.S.

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Shifa Maqba

Tue 4th Aug 2020 09:35

your beautiful use of imagery never ceases to amazing. excellent!

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Paul Sayer

Tue 4th Aug 2020 07:44

stunning.

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