George Edward Hart
A year gone by
The day your door slams shut forever
Your voice no longer sings throughout our home,
Your hazel case will enfold me never,
Your aging cherished body has become
A memory of my arm about you shoulder.
The eve before, under the sunset dome
We watch Monarchs and humming birds endeavour
To sip the nectar, while the holly/like holm
Spreads insist evergreen leaves, and we declare
A new age to look at birds and flowers;
For our children and grandchildren spare,
Far though they be, our caring hours.
But now my lonely heart so often veer
Between the happy past you gave and present tears.
Arctic sky
Green the flares of northern lights,
Muted green the moon trail,
Sombre red the moon glow edge,
Blood on the moon! At world top
The stars and planet zoom:
The moon is fine crystal;
Venus is a helicopter headlight.
Clouds of washed pink, piercing purple
And black glower a gathering storm.
A polar mear resumes his stately walk.
Watch, your soul is magnified.
A murder of crows
A murder of crows happened in Leaside:
They single filed the telephone wires
And commandeered the trees.
Flapping, swerving, changing places;
Each look alike strutted
And had his say with others.
Here was merriment to mock the world.
An old man threw back his head in laughter;
He was a boy again.
At the front door a women clapped her hands
To drive away the raucous intruders.
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