Hi (again) James
Wry, dry, and speculatively delightful. I love the way it's walking, that
it's possibly muttering as it goes!
I'd think about tightening up the form a little. The casual tone is a
delight but, now and again, visually, the poem looks as though it wants a
tidy up.
Bob

>From: James Bell <[log in to unmask]>
>Reply-To: The Pennine Poetry Works <[log in to unmask]>
>To: [log in to unmask]
>Subject: New Sub: Chance Meeting
>Date: Fri, 26 Jul 2002 15:32:07 +0000
>
>CHANCE MEETING
>
>Across the slabs of stones in the old ruin
>it started to walk towards where I sat
>in the sunlight
>
>and with this new focus
>could no longer consider
>myself alone as it
>
>continued to walk
>while I considered the irrational feel
>behind the ugliness my eyes perceived - so small
>
>though clearly defined as black
>against a lighter grey of stone - waddled on six stick legs
>and headed straight towards me
>
>Was this a reincarnation? Did it
>know about its previous life and how it became
>a beetle?
>
>What was this one? A filcher of honey or salt
>now dressed for a short
>life of delusion as fruit from the karma seed?
>
>O indeed! You could almost hear him mutter in disbelief
>as he gradually stumbled by
>and disappeared in a pile of dried leaves
>
>nirvana not yet reached
>with aball park figure of around twenty incarnations as a beetle
>to suffer yet
>
>while the stream nearby achieved the trick of
>running past contiuously as the moments of this encounter
>unfolded
>
>as both parties involved remained unharmed
>
>James Bell
>
>
>
>
>
>
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