Tangled threads

The nets in which
           we are entangled
the multiple threads
           I look now at the flaking light
at the splintered wood
           at the fallen leaves
ground to a mulch
           and the green fields
that stretch into the distance
           here where children and dogs
run their afternoons away
           when time takes a break

but I feel the tug
           in so many directions
the impertinence of life
           always at my heels
as though I should be
           constantly at its beck and call
have nothing better to do
           than live in its thrall

Rosebuds
           Yes I will gather these
when summer comes
           when swifts and swallows
fill the skies and love
           is there for the taking

John Lyons