a dull grey picture of a yard
with a broken rusting tractor
and a large old pot-plant
more grey than alive.
And then you strolled in and ruined everything.
As birds erupted and patterned the sky
and trees swayed to meet your gaze
and the streetlights flickered
one by one as you passed by.
Windows were thrown open
and people, young and old
cheered and waved flags of red and gold
and every colour of every rainbow that never before existed.
Everything was filled with light, with colour, with life
And I wept. It was all destroyed.
Nothing would ever be any better.
Which Patrick is this now? Who appears to have ruined your life? What’s going on?
Hmm I liked this. I felt like I was watching a parade of some sort from an old window, watching someone parading about on your heart.
This is a reflection on Patrick Kavanagh.
I love the imagery and movement. You do Pádraig Caomhánach justice.
I’m not familiar with him. Please share.
Cheers very much.
I like him.
My friend Paddy was a little freaked out by this poem.
Well ‘On Raglan Road’ in my favoured poems is by him.
And I shall share soon.
Oh I read it, it’s very good. I really liked it. I think I scanned it before but didn’t memorize the name. Thanks Ben.
no worries. More soon
I like the way this image was easily formed in my mind. The kicker of grey > color make me chuckle (in a good way). Nice work here.