A summer evening sat on the back door step at Montgomery Farm..

From there I used to watch the willow with her moods and look at the plough constellation.


the willow hangs still

leaves on a gallows,

she is pensive tonight


the proud rooster

senses the dusk

and returns to his cage


Norah the bat

soars in the pendant twilight

looking for mangoes


the bridge of sighs

blows smoke rings

perfect circles, of knowing


a fiery red tulip

seals up her lips

and crosses her legs


night falls on the grass

down, in the meadow,

feathering dusk


wondering of the dew

now so long forgotten.

how sweet, was its taste?


with comb now in hand

she pulls out

all of the knots of her life


an actuary of no

the cells so very forbidden

and , only by her


the willow hangs still,

leaves on a gallows.

she is pensive tonight …