De la vue ci-dessus

The dandelions are everywhere
Les enfants sont partout
The clover bounces in the sun
Et sous leurs pieds mous

The tree stands like their father
Un père avec bras verts
Trying to protect them
Ses protégés couvert

The day rolls out above them
Le soleil réchauffe l'air
Yet every dusk reminds him of
Les temps laissé derrière

And when the summer withers
Si ses souvenirs sont perdu
The daisies will still be everywhere
Endormis et ingénus


(c) Andrew Halsall Smith, 2018

Anxiety

Its soundtrack is the whirring tinnitus,
relentless,
with an intermittent bassline of rumbles,
like a heavy-loaded washing machine on fast spin
or a three-litre BMW high-revving in a neighbouring driveway;
vibrations. Cacophony.

It dwells in the middle distance:
never so far and fuzzy as to be dismissible,
sometimes leaping towards you with a torn tattooed grimace;
taunting. Stalking.

It pulls your cheekbones up into your eyes,
a hazy film of tears blurs colours as in an artist's glass,
deep breaths stab you like a fell-runner hitting the wall.
Perspiration tickles.
Rain pours from the overloaded grey bucket of the sky,
into the grey bucket of the dirty gutter;
saturation. Headache.

It immobilises,
but you are conflicted anyway
between the momentary safety of a known pain
and the flight instinct;
stranded. Vulnerable.

Yet, it is manageable.
Closed eyes swab, reboot the view,
fire licks in the exhaust of pursed lips,
a fresh shower swills the stickiness and clouds,
talking neutralises an indigestion of the mind;
relieved. Onwards!


(c) Andrew Halsall Smith, 2018