Tentative caress
then a roaring rage of hail
crashing onto glass
I like watching people run for it when the sky opens. There was quite a powerful hail shower when I was in the Stevenage office. From humble starts the hail suddenly unleashes. I only take a small bit of pleasure watching people skip through the car park, getting pelted!
Patchwork foal staggers
to the warmth of his mother
stitched from rags and socks
I was driving to the office in Stevenage, I remembered a couple of years ago I used to look forward to a certain stretch of road, this was at the time when my visits to that office were far more regular. Every morning I’d look out for the foal in the field by the side of the road, just past Hitchin. It was so gangly and fluffy. Like a toy. It used to stay close to its mother looking especially timid. As the weeks and months progressed, it got bigger, grew more confident, I’d see it playing sometimes, running along, throwing his head from side to side. Little snapshots of the foals life, watching it grow up, in those short seconds each day I was driving by. The memory made me smile.
There’s more ponies in that field now, and another foal, but I can’t be sure if it’s the same family group. It’s like my memory is that of a feeling or an emotion rather than any image or pictures in my mind. I can’t even exactly be sure what the foal looked like now.
Blackbirds duel at dusk,
Songs soaked in battleship grey,
Echoes bounce off steel.
Most of my Haikus seem to be about birds. That’s because birds are awesome. Tonight, I left work around 6.30, it was pretty much dark. The car park was quiet apart from two blackbirds having a sing off. I could see one of them quite clearly, taking the high point in the photo above. The little spot on top of the tower.
The complexity of a blackbird song is impressive, trills and tuneful whistles, no two compositions the same. One would start, then the other would reply. It was loud. This is the the time of year when territory is all important. Spring is pretty much here. Time to find a mate and nest. The two combatants were fighting it out for the large but spartan landscape of our work car park in Stevenage. For what little foliage there is.
