I soon begin to write the final chapters of my story, for I am satisfied that I now know what Joe and Simply intend. The writing might take some time
This comes after a false start, reading a book entitled ‘My Friend Flora’ (quite enjoyable) and a day writing 4 line poems, most of which shall not see the light of day. Some few are good enough, I think.
Three 4 line poems, inspired by the geography of my youth:
a squirrel chatters,
jealous of acorns at my feet
round or flat
in a world circumscribed
by trout rising to a fly
they cut down willow
that leaned over the water
where muskrat slept a’winter,
his home stocked with leaves and branches.