Timeflight
The birds fly down, the curving wings unfurl.
Though I would catch them, make them stay,
The summer’s gone, the autumn must return.
They say that time is hard to trap – to trick,
We scrabble hard to hold it. All the while,
The birds fly down, the curving wings unfurl.
Some days I too take flight. I leave
the day behind; misgivings; moments lost.
The summer’s gone, the autumn must return.
I launch into tomorrow, waiting for
The updraft; an escape from time?
The birds fly down, the curving wings unfurl.
Move on? I must. The pace it gathers fast,
The days move swifter every year.
The summer’s gone, the autumn must return.
Or yet – I summon all my strength – I’ll float,
Be in this moment, see it glow, then burn.
The birds fly down, the curving wings unfurl.
The summer’s gone, the autumn must return.
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[The above is a combination of two things – a notion inspired by a picture I love, and a poetry form, the villanelle, that I’ve meant to try before.
The picture is by Braque, with three white bird shapes on a blue background – they all seem to be flying downward, at different angles.
The villanelle is a form favoured by Sylvia Plath, I knew, but I discovered that it’s also the form of Dylan Thomas’ famous ‘Do Not Go Gentle into that Good Night’.
For someone waiting for spring, I don’t really want to rush away summer too, but once I had the line about the birds, the repeating line about the summer was one that seemed to fit.]