Canterbury Landscape
I use to hike through Flankers’ un-cobbled street
With easel and canvas hawking my mind
Sketching the apiary’s tenement
Dull gray boxes densely scattered
Through the Spanish needle blooming wild
The brimming bees thought of me sometimes
Like a pest … intruding their waist waggling contrariness
And chased me in their screaming hive
Yet I kept going back there, incessantly, again and again
Something about them I could not shake from my pain,
From my matted mind, merging mnemonics of visual antics
Something more than husking their honey songs, frantic anxieties
Before the reap nectar joy, in deep abyss of altered memories
The image tabernacles … perched precarious icons faultless
Houses like matchboxes on tendril feet
Crablike clings on clustered rocks defying defeat
I lived there safe from the menace of winds that wilted
Better structures framed from punctual plans that silted us
Dams unbroken we flowed …leaving trembling shack of dreams
Clutched tightly in mirthless mothers’ unyielding hands.
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