Taking illness for a summer’s eve walk, by Karen Green

There it goes, like gas,

misting along the river,

menacing random joggers

but not quite catching up,

as they spool along the banks

in twos and threes.

Old ladies with

wiry dogs on retractable leads

zig zag the bridle-path

beneath a flurry of honking geese,

flip-flapping on the heavy summer air.

It keeps reaching, searching

for that slim crevice

where it can insinuate itself

and lodge in for a night.

Or a life.

It follows the tired cyclist,

with swaying toddler in grey plastic seat;

over the Millennium Bridge they go

and down the path to

unsuspecting Selby.

 

RETURN TO AUGUST INDEX



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