Getting Dyslexic
Veggies are ripening in the greenhouse:
Cabbage and turnips,
Aubergines, tomatoes, onions and cucumbers.
Purple foxgloves and blue hollycocks blooming in the yard,
Surrounded by pots of roses.
The watcher’s camera now shows the road
A typical village lane, lined by pretty cottages
How far is it to the sea from here?
I shouldn’t be questioning. Whatever it takes
My roads are circled in any direction I take.
Coming out and in, I distinguish the forms
contours and volumes.
Perhaps it happens automatically
But I like to think I do it consciously
Making each day different from one another.
I might be getting dyslexic
It’s a bit worrisome, though I don't bear
Any high concerns about it.
Maybe I should, but taking it as it comes
Delivers a brighter impression.
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