Quicksilver

Image credit: with thanks to Fred Shively

QUICKSILVER

Late December evening, mild as May,
my dog and I take our familiar path
to the new villas at the edge of town,
glimmering with lights to welcome Christmas in.

On the vacant plot next to the last white house,
a horse is tethered near a half-built wall.
Shadow shifts on shadow and reveals two more,
all three grazing on the weed-frilled ground.

Suddenly a child runs out – from a house? I couldn’t see.
Elfin, blonde curls, maybe eight years old,
she’s wearing red pyjamas and no shoes.
Lit up with intention she flashes past me
across the rock-crumbed field, and 
straight to where the horses stand.
Clambering on to the unmade wall, 
she sits where she can reach
to pat the biggest horse. Who whinnies

once and then goes on to graze.

It made me smile, she was so blithe and sure
to reach and hold her object of desire.
And wishing she might always make so bold,
I turn and walk the dog the long way home.


December 2019

 

I was reading Robert Frost’s famous poem in blank verse, ‘Mending Wall’ (1914). I really like the natural way it reads and sounds, like someone thinking out loud. The poem seemed to fall into this rhythm by itself.

You can see more of Fred’s evocative photography and photo art at: https://www.flickr.com/photos/fredshively/

 

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