Beneath the umbrella tree
The where I am tree of who I used to be
Spreads entwined wet bright vine
Ringed by rolling rusting iron seats
Dull diesel fume from a single decker green bus
The town hall clock beats out time
Across municipal gardens and abandoned lawnmower
‘The Spurs’ cafe remains open
Wednesday afternoons are very quiet
The green bus rumbles out of sight
Into the long siren of the shipyards
York Avenue ends at the river
Lovely, Gus... You have described a moment in time with all that is going on around, as you sit on that bench taking it all in.
xxx
loved it, gus.. nothing else i can really add - i loved it simply..
<Deleted User> (7212)
Wed 27th Oct 2010 08:03
Really like it Gus - I could BE there - and that's a rare talent
York Avenue ends at the river... and so does this piece. I like this abrupt closure and whilst I couldn't see a deeply as dave I did really like this gentle one Gus. Nice. Win x
I like this Gus. There's more to it than just a mix of melancholy and nostalgia. The choice and arrangement of words skilfully creates a feeling of life moving away. The poem perhaps centres around the unspoken question - "Who am I now"?
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Gus Jonsson
Wed 27th Oct 2010 15:55
Thank You Everyone
I would love to be sat upon that bench taking it all in... it was all so long, long ago...
Where I am now and where I used to be... now that is the wispy nagging teaser... not exactly an age thing and its not exactly melancholy... painless ..but it does get very close to hurting...
just 'wish me back' moments of a man who is getting homesick after all these years.
Gus Jonsson