Sunday Poem

Spring may be in your step or in your mind,
but if you carry it always in your mind
it’ll often be in your step. —Roshi Bob

Pagham Harbour Spring

The blur of sky and sea
this white grey morning
before the day burns
moves into blue

the sweet butter scent of gorse
the sweet scent of you
dear daughter     ghost in my head
dear daughter

the mudflats and sailings shine
as the children run by
along marsh edge and the high dyke bank
egret and oystercatcher               dunlin and sandpiper

In the distance a train passes
where a short neat man
pushes a refreshment trolley
his clean white shirt immaculately ironed
his black waistcoat just right
the quiet dignity of him
as he passes through the hours

You’d know this           the particulars
were you here
held in the wide sky arc
the children running on the dyke bank
absorbed in this world
.

by Lee Harwood
from Collected Poems
publisher: Shearsman Books, Exeter, 2004