The View
such turmoil in the ancient
streets of the old capital - our
representatives, what do they do
a million miles away, here,
in the mountains the wind is
up in sympathy, gusting
in my flue
I did a town run today, tutting
at selfish drivers, waving
cordially at others of whom
I approved - small bustling
city on the move
I came home happily, smiling
deep inside my body in the
spirit place, and have lived
my place of peace today
on the settee
in front of my blazing stove:
there is no better view
previous poem
next poem