I’ve seen them.
Introduce silver into twisted parts
ribbons and bows
into love-
there’s little philosophy to this act.
Just a bit of beauty over the moon.
A partial shady spot.
I’ve watched them
fashion neurotic symbalance
to style.
Somehow the hours are easy
silence and closure.
It hasn’t been my turn,
to flutter around
fix my look, curl, fashion, fix
into some happy moment-
as if joy was a ring to put on,
a clod of dirt to turn over
and plant under –
Yes, water, sow, and dream of fields
– horse and rider alike!
If it was more complicated,
wouldn’t we have figured it out?
not a heart’s eye problem,
or soul survey,
but a flesh that lifts itself
into a place above.
Dave Barber
15 December 2008
Fine Poetry 