Sun shimmershine threads music’s waves
with th’ripples of a glist’ning scene.
In kanji-cascade, numbers water-
fall upon the pregnant pauses.
As tanka looms – “Take me! I’m done!” –
a quatrain quells it: “More to see!
The child who eats the twisting treat;
the gull who rides the unseen surf.”
Flux, feathers! Plumes of greyscale-white;
spring wind whips, gently coursing
past blossomed branches, tentatively
treading where the winter’s been.
Climbclamb’ring girl, with your forehead marked,
somehow, with ice-cream debris:
stop terrifying me ‘n your guard’yuns
as you rush the river railing…
Makeshift pre-drinks ‘neath nested trees
‘neath sky ‘neath satellites;
new music threads its rippling waves
through th’sun’s soft shimmershine…
Image credit – Paul Box/Bristol Post
william altoft 