Details |
Ed Rogers Poem
Sailing boats, out of the water for the winter, as
though lined up against an impending storm. All
their halliards shaking vigorously, sounding
like birds in flight.
Low tide and the wild geese, further out in
the water today, are almost hidden behind a long
natural breakwater. I hear them honking for the
first time, muted, in the distance, drifting in gently
on the wind, sounding like in slow motion. Then,
between the rocks they enter the mudflats, sailing in
like many ships heading for harbour - an armada of
geese. There’s a dampness in the air that clings to
reality like an odour. The weather is changing, and
later on, much later, as though greeting an
unexpected friend, the rain will arrive.
The storm passes and as night descends, the
vapour trail from an aircraft, which has a pleasant
orange glow, tracks its demise. Early next day, on
a calm February morning, geese are again visiting
the estuary. I hear them outside as I lie in bed. Later,
walking through a spring like idyll, small birds
bloom on bare trees.
Copyright © Ed Rogers | Year Posted 2016
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Details |
Ed Rogers Poem
Small pieces of driftwood
on the beach this morning
still wet to touch
with shapes and smells of salty wonder
Cautiously I move
Carefully I sift
I find a lucky piece on the high tide line
lovingly place it in my pocket
take it home
put it in a special place and watched it for a while
It doesn’t change
It stays lucky
It has a ledge along one side like tongue-and-groove board
a bevel on the opposing side
and a hole in the centre near the top like a keyhole
suggesting that it may have been part of a door
A lucky door perhaps
or a door to a magic kingdom
I feel a bit like a happy dog who has found a new stick
or a five year old
who has just realised that small pieces of wood
can serve some kind of important mystic purpose
If only we can work it out
We need to work this out
Lucky things can often exhibit magical tendencies
They fill our imaginations with unique thoughts
Adults can only think this way
when they think the way dogs and children do
We need to get it right
Let’s try to get this right
And for those of you who don’t believe in magic
and feel that magic plays no part in their lives
I will perform this small act of verbal prestidigitation
I will transform this piece of lucky driftwood into a poem
By the power of ancient spirits
I cast this driftwood spell for you
Copyright © Ed Rogers | Year Posted 2016
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Details |
Ed Rogers Poem
Yachts
newly returned to use
after their winter sojourn
line up in the sand
paying homage to the Mecca of storms
A seagull
hanging on an angel’s breath
sees further than us all
dives like a fallen angel
in search of worldly pleasures
There’s a half moon still in the sky
pale as a cloud
almost transparent
trapped somewhere between the two worlds
of night and day
Long shadows on the beach
creep like sharp fingers across the cold sand
Spring feels like winter
or winter feels like spring
on this new morning
Copyright © Ed Rogers | Year Posted 2016
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