The summerhouse
Written in the Spring of 2020, at Polcuta in the Roseland.
The summerhouse
Open all day long
to receive the spring’s fresh scents
like gifts from heaven
~
In this wide silence
a blue guitar yearns for sound -
tremulous stillness
~
Surprised by sunshine
dazed wasp and dusty window
embrace once again
~
A cobweb sways lightly
in a corner of the room,
playing with silence
~
An immense white shell
framed on the windowsill -
outside, a bluebell sea