The Black Watch of Canada


I want to die
with the window open
just a crack,
so I can sense ”the hissing of summer lawns”
or the soughing of wind through the pines

Summer is a suffocating death,
travelled by wasps and bumble bees

The rippling of the pond
cools my forehead
as I slip into a haze,
where faces float flat
before me,
evened out like lids on jars,
no eyes, no mouth, no nose,
finally cast like frisbees
across the Red Square
outside the Lenin mausoleum;

The Black Watch of Canada
lining the dark horizons
with the solid Edinburgh Tattoo conviction
of pipes and drums
and Ye Banks & Braes,

the coast line white with breakers,
the religious looking to their makers


Poetry by Ingvar Loco Nordin The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 28 times
Written on 2022-06-14 at 08:23

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