I’ve been keeping a ‘lookout journal’ for the last few months, so, for National Poetry Day, here’s a bit of it.
July
hedges and roadsides hang
swags of wild rose and honeysuckle
knapweed and bedstraw
boxes unpacked, all the books
safe on new shelves
the old family Bible
faded leather, records kept
since 1808
Rimmer, Oldroyd, Milne
handwriting hardly changed
by Calder Water
blackthorn, hemlock, meadowsweet
sun, bees, meadow brown
first garden berries
burning scarlet under leaves
covid and high pollen
dizzy, shaking, coughing all day
summer passing us by
August
the latest dark
a fox calls beyond the garden
dog day’s sun, hot glare
westerly breeze shakes the leaves
brings no breath of cool
rooflines of starlings
night sulks, waiting for thunder
September
rain, mud, cleavers seeds
harvest of brambles ripe and heavy
beyond my reach
marigold hooks brown
poppy heads swollen, seeds saved
and sowed. Autumn
the Queen is dead
long queues to see change coming
scent of vinegar
jam cooling in the kitchen
new season’s apples
October
equinoctial gales,
the house creaks and wavers
