Friday, January 18, 2008

raindrops, helmet, lichen

Crystal raindrops line up under the arms and back rests of park benches, under the bars of gates, and the branches of shrubs and trees; each is a temporary hemisphere reflecting the world, or half of it. I think about raindrops as I walk across the Grove without coming to any conclusion, and they hang there in my thoughts waiting for gravity to call them down.

Outside a restaurant on table, like a piece of sculpture, is a motorcyclist's helmet. No sign of the owner. I pause for a second to contemplate it. Then I spot the owner tending his machine a little further on, on the pavement. "Hullo, mate," he says.

On the shining black trunk of a tree in the persistent drizzle, the strange flower-like shapes of lichen spread like circular green stains.

No comments: