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TheGoldenBall
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The Golden Ball
18" x 24"
acrylic / canvas
I heard a bird call
when the pain was great
and the spilled blood of
long and jostling years
which keep such terrible company
spattered
on my laughing face.
I saw a golden ball when
every fibre of the world
was grey,
when every heavy trodden foot
chased monotone ripples
to the edge of man's dream.
It shone to resist the dark.
I met someone who didn't fit
who held my shaking hands in hers,
who spun me round on
stubbled ground
and made my feet do foolish things.
Who ripped from me
that hopeless cloth
and took me to the burnished sphere
. . . among the woodbine
where the thrush
would not be silenced.
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