Tuesday 3 May 2011

the smell of blossom in the morning

fox, originally uploaded by Dru Marland.

Just for the moment, the war was over
The sun found its way into the garden
Warming the foxes drinking from the birdbath
A blackbird was singing
I smelled the hawthorn blossom on the breeze,
leaning out of the window while the kettle boiled.
Then I turned the radio on.

Yesterday morning's notes for a poem which I'll probably not get round to writing. It was one of those moments.

I remember the awful feeling seeing the planes crash into the World Trade Centre in 2001; it came at a bad time for me anyway; with my old life falling apart, suddenly seeing that things had just changed globally as well as personally....


  1. "Turning the radio on"... often the intrusion of the world's woes and pain is the last thing I need. It somehow happens anyway.

    This latest turn brings me such foreboding, bringing to mind "an eye for an eye only makes the whole world blind".

    That is a very healthy looking fox. Somebody's pet?

  2. A fox that's wild and free, Halle. I sometimes throw food down, especially in winter, but I'd hate them to lose their wildness.

    Yes, it was a rude shock hearing that news. And worse to hear the triumphalism. Do you know the Tony Harrison poem, 'Initial Illumination?" "....all those crowing who don't yet smell the dunghill at their claws..."

  3. I have come to poetry's power late. Perhaps it has been long enough since school that I can embrace it. Thank you for that reference to Harrison.

    Our fox population is also wild and free, but they are generally quite emaciated.

  4. I'm reading CS Lewis's surprisingly pagan poems, many preserved only as "notes" and never published as a book in his lifetime, and loving them. I love your "notes" as they are.