Maurice Scully, in my garden 20 years ago, advised me on pruning a young laburnum tree. My dilemma was the removal of one of three main branches. He hardly hesitated, “Take out the middle one.” Was it the tree he was considering or was it symbolic of something else?
Writing ‘about’ something (how many poets continue to introduce their work, ‘This poem is about’?) renders it culpable of being a descriptive exercise, whereas writing ‘through’ something opens levels of greater interest and realization.
the middle of March I’m
in the tropics suddenly
inside the arctic circle not
dizzy but waiting to bloom….‘ABC’
Maurice Scully’s expansive consideration in ‘things that happen’ moves through such realisations and discoveries.
heavy chestnut by a shed wall by a river.
Mud & buried bicycles & reflections in the channel.
Fifty-seven seagulls on a parti-coloured roof.
Your move. Maytime.
To swink in this railway station buying time
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