Longlisted Poem 2011
Ullswater Community College, Cumbria
Sometimes my thoughts are older than I am
They wander away from me
sidestepping time, place, person.
Those bright Christmas baubles,
Into brambles, bones and earth as dark rich
as if my body gave it my
heart. Moss is growing on ancient stone
aspects, arches vaulting ideas into the air
of this nowhere, everywhere place.
A drop falls with a plink; pure thought
is in the making here.
Mist lies like consciousness over pillars
smoothed by wondering, idle fingers,
which are mine, not mine,
and what a surprise to see my own face
in yours, darling.
This airborne ornate temple, intangible,
nothing but a hum of all our voices, saying,
sometimes my thoughts are older than I am.
© Jenny Walker
- Date January 4, 2015
- Tags 2011 Simplicity - Longlisted Poems