There really is no time like the present
poetry breath rhythm the expression
of feeling of thought what it is to be
alive and in the moment Kingfishers
woodpeckers barn owls wrens and dragon flies
observed from the hide
at the water’s edge
the dense humid smell of vegetation
the rustle of leaves and the play of light
on the river surface close to where as
children we came with our nets and our jars
to fish for tadpoles
So much life has passed
over that weir : “Way of the world,” pilgrim
Patsy says “You can never step into
the same brook twice.”
Patsy’s pearls of wisdom.
John Lyons