On A Winter’s Afternoon

On A Winter’s Afternoon

Close to sleep on a winter’s afternoon,
but hearing the liquid sounds of garden
birds singing to my ageing memories;
and remembering the soft watery light
on your dark hair and eyes like pools at
night, and how we have kept the seasons
sweet together; and enjoying a reverie
of dream honeybees gathering pollen
for whatever tomorrows may yet come.

(Julian O’Dea)


Now published here at Friday’s Poems.


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