I hear the geese  without  seeing  the pattern they make against the sky
Their unseen cries create spirit paths, lost meanders
A rising village with linked canopies of limes
Black rooks in hanging baskets from top heavy elms
Brooks of see through shrimps and sharp eyed fish
The gods left mussel beds and Roman snails –

Here is the school, the wheat, the church, the river.
I used to swim in light, licking weeds making love
To my legs and arms, floating like a dreaming waterbaby
Amid lily pads and juicy stalks and currents
Not understanding my own blurry wants
Opening for the kiss of clear delicious water.


About Veronica Aldous

Writer and artist, Veronica is a lecturer is Fine Art and Creative Writing. Her first book of poems, 'Moon Cinema' is now available on Lulu.com. Now there is also 'Mortal' her second book.
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