Syrup thick the evening slides in,
through an open window,
past clinking blinds left low.
Settled in the heat of floorboards,
today edges towards tonight
uncertain of any other name.
Could be Sunday for all its softness,
its lifted underbelly showing
to a glow on the horizon.
Even the birds seem distant,
their swooping songs drifting
deeper into the quietness.
In other poetry news, guess who finally had time to work out kindle publishing! ‘It’s All In The Blood’ can now be purchased on kindle through the amazon store. Feeling more than a little smug with myself I must say.
There is something unsettling and sinister in the way evening settles in… when even the birds are distant. I am allowed out and walk more than i have done in years… feeling close to the birdsong.
I’ve been in the garden far more since lock-down started. The other night I went out just to sit and listen to the quiet. Very off in the middle of a town, but also rather beautiful. Some good is coming from this forced slow down. I think a lot of us are reconnecting with ourselves and the natural world.
Stunningly beautiful work – well done! Loved it.
Thank you so much.
always such a pleasure
This is both stunning and beautiful, a poem with perfect edges and wondrous word-smithing–“syrup thick the evening slides in” and “could be Sunday for all its softness”.
Really, Carol, this is one of your best poems.
Thank You Glenn 😊
Nice line: “today edges towards tonight”
Thank you Frank
I get a feeling of reality receding with the birds, with whatever slipped in the window taking its place.
Reality does seem to be receding a touch in the current situation.
“Syrup thick”- makes me picture Canada just for its stereotypes and I haven’t even been there. Thank you for sharing this with the world. It feels like a moving postcard to me.
Thank you. I’ve never been to Canada either. Whenever I think of syrup I picture golden syrup in a green tin.
I can feel the loneliness of the evening covering us with night! Well done!
Beautiful and peaceful.
Thank you Mary.
I love the atmosphere in your poem, Carol, it’s just like a Sunday evening, the way it ‘slides in, / through an open window’, right down to the heat of floorboards and ‘its lifted underbelly showing / to a glow on the horizon’. Such gorgeous imagery!
I’ve downloaded your book to read later – looking forward to it!
Thank you Kim! I appreciate it so much.
If you enjoy the book, would you mind leaving a little review on amazon please? The algorithms are based mostly on reviews so it really helps.
It might take a while, I’m reading so many at once – of course I will. 😊
Well if you have any reading recommendations, I’d also welcome those. Burning through books in this lockdown.
A book I’ve been reading with The Pigeonhole that’s good is The Secrets of Strangers by Charity Norman. Two of my favourites are Postcards from No Man’s Land by Audan Chambers and How I Live Now by Meg Rosoff.
This is absolutely gorgeous Carol. Reads like a southern drawl…
Thank you Linda