View From The Hill
But those prime candours of lone experience—
with wonder, misgivings, both!
To keep them, your perceptions, decide:
what you tell yourself you will uphold...
Breezy this morning, up on our local hill.
Looking down to Pitstone's vacant ponds—
dark glass, and implicate a passing sky.
Something not understood expected there...
Necessary order, imposed.
Still, between this book and the far view
from this bench in an untidy yard,
I'm sure of my garden fence, neighbour houses.
A determined bee hums by, following instructions.
I share it's flight-path, that is all.
But a qualm, as if some loose echo
blurts in my inner ear.
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