Thursday, 21 June 2012

Whatever


which way's up

Which way is the wind blowing today?
The birds feast on the bread I've left out,
wax-eyes, the greedy ones, a sparrow
in tweed feathers maybe gets a look in.
It's cold, the shortest day kind
of cold that seeps from the ground up.

Which way is the wind blowing today?
A hairdresser and I, the other day,
discussed the sarcastic tone
her kids use when they say, "Whatever".
"I just loves those two words". she said.
Winter can also come up with some gems


the way the light falls on to damp dark.
Which way is the wind blowing today?
No way. The air is too still, too quiet 
until the ten-twenty shift to sudden sun
-shine and a gatecrasher sky of blue. 
The birds cannot believe it. Whatever next?


Kay McKenzie Cooke

2 comments:

Dona Bogart said...

I love this poem. I love the story about your grandson and the butterfly. Visiting your blog is like visiting that discovery zone, so many interesting things to see and absorb!

Kay McKenzie Cooke said...

Dona - Thanks :) I appreciate you dropping by Dona.

Harbour

Harbour
'how this all harbours light'