a single
thread
the spider’s
leaving
light
travelling
along it
breeze
sliding it
back
a whiteness of wings –
from the shore a heron lifts
away on water
***********
egret takes to air
wingtips grazing the lake
gliding on shadow
***********
a piece of the dusk
breaks off and takes to the air
becoming heron
leaves hardly moving
from the depths of the blue sky
faint trace of birdcall
************
tobi circles once
in the sky above my head
leaving empty blue
************
dull heat of noon –
in the bushes a bird calls
without conviction
************
vanishing into
the dark crevice – lizard’s tail
a startling blue
************
air awash with sound
insistence of cicadas
the tree’s symphony
************
crunching of acorns
underfoot on the mountain’s
shadow-dappled path
************
sun low on the hills
plumes of the susuki grass
softly luminous
************
nothing but the cold
no wind, no sky visible
a few flakes of snow
************
always coming back
to the platform by the lake
and the sky mountains
*************
finding myself here
home again and with a sigh
the train pulls away
***************
For previous contributions by James Woodham, please see the striking poems and stunning photography here. Or here. Or here. Or here.