Game for Two Players
Somewhere up there on the road
the road that leads to Rickmansworth,
or on the road that slants down
through a park that is always empty
except for the railway line
that also passes through it – there
where the Rock concerts are held,
near the stone fountains and the strange
concrete rectangles, where the nights
in Summer darken and lighten quickly,
you can play this game
with a tennis racquet and some old tennis
balls: one of you throws the ball
and the other hits it with the racquet
so high you can almost see it disappear –
you can watch it climbing in the sky,
you can see it growing so small,
and still see it until
you can’t see it anymore.
***
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3 comments:
i read your poems and i feel a lot of respect because there is a real harmonious melody and also a modern atmosphere, and i just feel your own spirit because it sounds like nobody, in France we say" bravo"!
Nice post!
Lovely images Kenneth. I shall return.
I hope you enjoy Nam Le's work. As with most authors, his writings are sometimes uneven in their quality - from brilliant to less so, in my view. However I think he has a bright future.
I wish that you would return to Journeys in Creative Writing for my stories. I would really appreciate any feedback as I am isolated from good writers nowadays, because of where I live.
I have received excellent reactions on the web and am now beginning to send my stuff to publishers, as well as beginning a book about my great grandmother - a twist from my most recent 'Paternity', a mystery novel.
Cheers
June in Oz
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