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GLIMPSING THE STARS

I wake, as always at some dark hour, to pee –

make my way, as always, with utmost care

down the steep, narrow stairs then across

the dining room’s creaking floor boards

as silently as bare feet can. Afterwards,

I creep to the patio doors, hoping

to see the visiting fox my hosts have heard.

There are stars in the clearest of skies –

so many, as always surprisingly

so many,  I want to wake the household

but, instead, craning my neck, peer up

through the double glazing in wonder.

What would the fox, night’s denizen, see?

An old man in his pyjamas, singing

sotto voce, ‘I only have eyes for you,’

longing to go in the garden to gaze at

such mundane immensements!

 

 

 


© Copyright David Selzer
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4 Responses
  • John Chapman
    July 22, 2016

    A poem about me? Why, thank you. ?

  • David Selzer
    July 22, 2016

    Not this one, John.

  • Mary Clark
    July 28, 2016

    I’ve been there. As a child I would have gone into the garden. Not now. So much is lost in our decorum and fear. I mention fear because recently I was in my backyard watching birds through my binoculars when a woman appeared at my shoulder. A complete stranger, with long stringy hair, missing teeth, tall and thin. Can I enjoy my garden in quite the same way ever again?

  • David Selzer
    July 29, 2016

    Because of incidents in the past we keep the three gates to our back garden locked – except when we’re using them, of course! Your comment, Mary, has made me realise that we have come to take what amounts to ever present fear for granted.

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