nederlandse taal
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Blue for a Wonder
I lie in the shadow of the tree at the front of the house.
The new grass that touches my shoulder is spider-soft.
A 4pm sun scattershots the hedgerow of lilacs.

Birdsong finds me in clues and snippets. And disappears
unresolved. A glimpsed at peaceable sense –
sheep and cattle grazing.

The neighbour’s roses have been abandoned
for another year. Guiltless, I cut long stems of those
I favour and bring an armful of their rednesses home.

Sometimes I imagine a tap running, or a woman
admiring the suddenness of a sun-darkened room;
I know that space hasn’t been lived in for years.

An older threshold. And the repeated study
of the outside bright. Minutes pass
before a reflection is visible.

Like an animal that’s become aware,
it disappears when I go to touch.
My hand rests in that dark.