These were written mainly over the last couple of weeks and seemed appropriate for
the weather and the midpoint of the month…
Lived or not
If we don’t stop to watch the sunset,
How do we know we’ve really lived that day?
Listening to the Birds and Bees
Perhaps people no longer
Stop to listen to the birdsong
Because they’ve taken all the birds away
And only sparrows in the traffic stay.
They Doth Protest Too Much
They did their bit and are owed.
What have they left us?
Tea, thinking each leaf
Left China for Ireland, then
Here, I use bags twice.
On the Death of Bowie
For some, no matter how old they go,
They’re gone too young, too soon.
And all we have left to hold is a song
That we can’t help but sing out of tune.