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Day Three

Josie Walsh

 

We live in dreams:
These sentimental afternoons,
These silent vows.
How we starve without them.

Ian Hamilton

He puts the camera in the tree fork.
It regards them without passion.

The tree is a holm oak, the kind
that´s chopped and burned for charcoal.

They smile there twice, notice nearby
some pink scissors and a cushion.

Seven have conquered the small summit;
joke about one who disappeared over

the top and met another tribe
who made him King, in minutes.

They´ve photographed sweet pea, sage
covered with bees, the fruits of asphodel.

They´ve talked of death and birth,
walk now

to the Bar Maria where they´ll feast
and praise Elizabeth Bishop.

Later, they will re-tell the day,
learn, an eclipse is predicted

for the evening. The moon
will hide herself for seven hours.

 

Acknowledgements:

Josie Walsh is one of the Pennine Poets. Her most recent collection 'Another Breath' is available from Amazon. She has frequently visited the Almassera Vella. This poem was written following a walk with Jo Shapcott and others to the Divino Summit in the Tagarine valley a short drive from the Almassera Vella.

 

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