2 by Gregory Gunn


Waterscape

Befallen in my present state
of delirium, outburst as in
a tainted tailored suit,
I seek out a peaceful respite
underneath a decrepit
bridge where grasses &
wind roses grow and thrive.

Desiccated sorrows, seaweed,
oh my lovely departed, Love
transformed to brine &
manipulation are no longer
a convenient option.

Upon either shoal,
my happier past streams,
sand, pebbles and marsh
represent trite recollections,
perplexed & possessed by
the inharmonious cry
of idealized doves harried
by gusting winds.


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Souvenir of Autumn

 
Beside this autumnal stream,
a pensive man hobbles
into western refracted radiance.

The breeze oscillates mournfully,
migratory birds evacuate
nests; the afternoon ages.

It is restless in this locale
and ionised with mutability,
the earth transformed into
a senescent season:

                    orange to umber,
                    stem back to bulb,
                    form to airiness.

He will deposit this panorama
for the yet-to-come time
for harbouring safely, shall
envision on his mind’s screen
his feet on the well-trodden trail,
his transfixed sight pinned
to the languid pitching sun;
feel his head incrementally
increase upward and beyond
until his imagination drifts 
arbitrarily in the upper
atmosphere  much like a
          solitary dirigible,
a lasting emblem.