28/09/2017

Freedom

Walking a lane, drowsy September waking
In the wet nettles and overhanging branch drips
With the shifting chatter of sparrows and finch

A blue sky opens up to billowing fields
And, above the hedge, long past the log piles
I glimpse a tower burnished brightly by an early sun

I am free to walk here, head unbowed
Free of the tirade of modern disappointment
So eagerly sucked into our subconscious

From the endless opinionated social dysfunction
Ready at our fingertips to download more
Here, now, I am not a consumer of contention

Not subject to a hundred ways to be more or less
(And none of it for free), postage and packing paid
For someone else's misconception of perfection

Instead, I am reflected as I am in the silver puddles
Imperfectly reduced to wiggly lines and shifting shapes
Drenched full of light and singing with wild birdsong


Poetry Day 2017