Old Grey Poet



I refuse to reflect
on the mystical qualities of light,
where light is a word which began life
and when life is done so shall be the light.

Rather, I sit outside in late summer,
anticipate the softening to come,
recall the joyous white
and the shadow blackening light
that stalked over the land.

The grass fell away and the trees
stood stilled and dizzy in the heat.

I refuse to reflect
on the mystical qualities of light
but as the light fades the land grows softer
and as the air cools, so do I.

John Bailey
Wales 1988
Reworked: Somerset 1997

Visit his site, oldgreypoet.com

Text and image: © JB

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