just a bit…  under the weather
so lying in bed – listening to

a chattering of sparrows
a bird, running over the roof
–                              in gumboots
Rod’s spoon tap-tapping
against his cereal bowl, the
hum of the refrigerator

disembodied voices from
over the back fence
my cellphone pings…


A poem on change for Dverse poets

carrying change
from my back pocket
into an unknown future
not always knowing where
the road lies ahead
but always the certainty
that change is as inevitable
as the passing of the stars

And slowly answered Arthur from the barge: ‘the old order changes, yielding place to new, and God fulfills himself in many ways, lest one good custom should corrupt the world…’

from ‘The Passing of Arthur’ by Alfred Lord Tennyson