Along The Canal At Dusk


I walk along the canal at Dusk

Oftentimes I walk along the canal at Dusk

Thinking oftentimes as I walk along the canal at Dusk about Life.
My life.

My life oftentimes seems to me as I walk along the canal at Dusk,
To be caught up in others’ lives.

Others’ lives, not my own, not my others .Or so I think as I walk
The canal at Dusk.

The canal, at Dusk, reminds me of things I have not experienced.
Historical memories, not my own.

Not my own images of Times and Tales past
But caught up in mine, begging to belong
As I walk alone
Along the canal at Dusk.

Along the canal at Dusk, I try to understand the Tales, the images of Times past
And what might be their relevance
To me.

To me.

Along the canal at Dusk.


Surreptitious Look

Take a look at @JonasAlmgren’s Tweet:

This is not a pic but a painting
Of a village in Autmn
In miniature.
A picture
Of careless sky and no people
Or signs of life.
The detail is fine
Silver catches my eye
Like tiny tinsel barbed wire
On a fence
Pricking the picture
On which I cannot superimpose
Another tincture or hue.
Dwellings unhuddled close together
Unrambled shacks
But warm to my sight
Even as the colouring of straw or hay
Threatens a kind of dismay
Not unfolded but hinted.
Surreptitious memories from books and films and plays.



Bold sturdy strong
Painted black-
Placed like a Sentinell
To give the impression-
Hiding coating covering
The weakness of iron
That erodes rots flakes
Exposed to elements-
Wind rain sunshine.
Not suited to guard,
Rails bemoans curses
Its placement.
Faking stance.
Vain brazen presumptious
Pretentious accessory
To itself.
I will not lean on it
I will not seek its assistance
I shall ignore it.
I am bold
I am sturdy
I am strong.
Though my insides quiver
They do not rot.