I found this poem scrawled in pencil on the back of an old cigarette packet which was tucked in a side pocket of an old rucksack I was throwing out.
I remember writing it when, in my late teens, I was living semi-rough on the resort coast of North Wales after the only serious row I had with my mother. I had placed my sleeping bag on this warm night on a grass verge. Behind me was a lighted window with a vase of daffodils ....
Shadows cast by daffodils
black against the wall
a feather lost by a lone and migrant bird
silhouettes of daffodils darken, darken
and thoughts like unexpected feathers
Jun 1, 2008 10:53:30 amby novelist Homepage »
It's always an adventure to discover an old poem or journal we've written, and it often takes us back to that place and reminds us how far we've come in life--like hearing an old song, but better because we wrote it. Your voice was clear and evocative then just as it is now.
Jun 4, 2008 9:41:21 pmby Wolfspirit Homepage »
Thanks for sharing your personal thoughts then, while reading this I too, can remember times as such and the thoughts that followed and the beliefs in those thoughts established statements/clubs inside the mind to beat hell out of myself with, instead of recognizing them for what they were, questions.