P1200476In the midst of clearing my garden of autumn leaves, I discovered something. Beneath a sodden layer of leaves I found a small colony of pebbles and stones, placed in the flowerbed in spring time. Despite months of rain and dew, beneath the veiny thatch they were perfectly dry, as they were when I wrote about them on a hot afternoon months before. It crystalised a suggested  idea for my next entry, (thank you to all who made suggestions), but also reminded me of words already written. In one of those odd mental rollercoasters, I took stock of the year through all of its peaks and troughs, and decided that as this one draws to a close, I want to share some words once again. A memento of Summer, if you will.

More to come, but for now…



Dignified flotsam.
Ocean unaccounted for, river-refugees.
Serene and lichen-clad.
Now more used to brittle green scratch
Than languid, lingering weed’s caress.

Yet a watering downpour draws a gasp, and with this gush
A salty tang rises. Swells. Falls.
Hues gleaming, all weep in their spleandour.
At whispered memories of immersion
When Eve danced and Adam span.
Many moons ago.

memento 2

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