I started writing this on November 22nd 2003 & suddenly it got finished this morning during the invigilation of a Maths exam. Such is the boredom engendered in such those circumstances…
THE TIES THAT BIND
The morning after you left
I drew the curtains on
the seven acre field, Two hares
were bowling through the stubble,
wind-blown, skidding like broken wheels.
They danced and sprung apart
and danced again and then were gone,
beyond the oblivion of the tree line.
Then a mob of seagulls swung
downwind from the west,
scattered, gathered again in a
brawl of wings and then were gone,
into a bleak neutrality of towering
clouds. Love or combat, the wind
blows us into the world
and out again, we dancers, bound
only to the end of our measures
and not beyond.
pic from: www.justsculpture.com/ pages/cornish_hares.html
1:42:22 PM 
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