Enjoyed the read Colin. Nice work.
Cheers,
Frank
> Canal Reflection
>
> Last year I took him along the canal
> while his sister learned karatedo at the centre,
> a cord round the handle bars of his first bike
> looped round my wrist and into my palm,
> an unsteady burden that marked my skin
> when he would not pedal, so towed him
> towards the bridge. The stabilisers gripped
> and bumped over each rut and stone
> on the path. We learned leaves as we went,
> one from each tree, held by their stems
> and fastened to a wind-shield of green.
> We admired chestnut spread like a cartoon hand
> and sycamores like stars on stalks.
> We travelled with all the time in the world.
> Each tree's image shone where it fell
> on forgetful water. If some aspect was kept
> he may never tell. I can only say
> how he smiled with wide, voyaging eyes.
>
> This year I sit on a concrete balcony
> with my back against brick, so still
> I forget where flesh ends and numb stone begins,
> observe how his sister has already turned
> the stiff rods of her body to canes of willow.
> He makes his first turns in his crisp suit,
> glances up to where I sit and nod approval,
> lifts feet and curls fists, lesson by lesson.
> Months pass before he looks down
> when the sensei adjusts his stance.
>
> I return to the path by the canal
> where light falls on water and lilies open
> as still as memory in a wind-shatterered world
> where sprung green darkens and chest nut
> in its shell grows its first skin.
>
> ______________________
>
> Colin
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