Rachel J Bowler's photos

Mozart

For I have known them all already, known them all: Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons, I have measured out my life with coffee spoons; I know the voices dying with a dying fall Beneath the music from a farther room. So how should I presume? T S Eliot

My gentle Jon Jon

The gesture was too big. A card and a few kind Words would have sufficed. Or a second hand book So, I put them outside In the spring afternoon. And they lie there, Unreachable. A single rose Entreats for help, Wanting to live. Not understanding the cut. I take it out, Vase and water it. It has a few days At the most. The alstroemeria Look relieved, In their plastic Wrapping. Joyful in the temporary. Impatient and fatuous In their blankness. At once smothering And transient.

Across the sea Of a thousand swords Forged in the sun Long tailed kisses, Uniform, abstract, Silent and stabbing, Avalon ascends For a moment. Refracting in lamentation. A myth once glimpsed, Sucked in to a sanctuary Of destruction. Sinking back into Victorian benches, The wood calms, And I look back Towards the town. And the old soldier Watches From his wheelchair As the cinema empties Of oblivious youth.

I often go to the place Where the trees still whisper Their time travel magic, Releasing memories Frozen in the sun. Is this the trickery Of hope? After all these years, What am I expecting? Perhaps a sign That the year Has not yet ended.

29 February 2020 - 9 August 2023 And still I dream [s]he treads the lawn, Walking ghostly in the dew, Pierced by my glad singing through. W B Yeats

Ludovico Einaudi

Balmorehea

Gibran Alcocer

The cloak of loneliness was a distant weed. Something only half comprehended, Barely regarded. Pondered on but not yet worn, Let alone handed down. In the shade of spring Everything stretched ahead, And there was no rush to get home.

Perhaps it is Too late For the hope Of summer When half a Lifetime divides. Memories sparkle In the sun only From a distance. Nonetheless, The heart Still yearns. But now the day Is fading.

Martin Czerny

Lasting less than Ten days, They lurch In vain. I frame a few, Hoping to make them Everlasting. But they remain Anonymous, Among a million Others That strive Not to fade Out of memory.

Sigur Ros

Floating on the weight Of hope, Autumn flattens The echoes of morning. At the juncture I imagine finding you, Sometimes picturing you In the distance that Conceals Any chance Of finding you Once more.

Ludovico Einaudi

Have I met you In days long gone, Passing through? Dimly remembered Before time frowned Into evening? A memory In symmetry On the shoreline Or on a distant hill Looking west? The breeze Wanders through The years. Lifting the decades On the air, To youth. Meeting but not meeting Until the end.