From an Island

We have no carabao here

To bring to the river,

No pigs to feed,

No chickens to care for.

We don’t grow garlic or ginger

Or hack banana trees

To get at their hearts

To eat with sardines. 

The days pass by in front of 

TV sets and computer screens.

 

The evening comes low and achromatic.

The morning is seen out the window

Or ignored on the walk to the shop

To buy a loaf of bread.

I walk there past leafless trees.

Facing the road is the Town Hall Clock.

 

The minutes, the hours, the days,

Like waves they roll away.

Back to the place that you can see,

They roll and turn, endlessly.

Reviews

[Ashli The Amazing]

beautiful imagery [: loved it

[Peggy Gildon]

Time flies! Excellent observations and imagery. Love the sense that someone is missing life as the the days like waves roll away.