Two Selfie Poems
        the self is only interesting as an illustration
                        Patrick Kavanagh

I

Out of a biting north westerly
parked up on a grassy floodplain
by a six arch stone bridge
draped with ivy bunting
where the languid course of the Shannon
narrows, quickens its flow
churning and folding into itself
stirring water-noise though
in a quieter swirl a lone swan feeds
and nearby from a stand of silver birch
a robin sings. There's inky under-belly cloud,
now and then a stunning shower of hailstones.
Then cloud whitens and there's a frail heat
in February sunlight. Wools, thermals,
the right boots , various hats, waterproofs:
I'm dressed for this so I am, hear you say
how you can just imagine me
curious in a landscape wandering 'round
as if some vital clue needed to be found.

II

        the perfect journey is
        no need to go

                A.R. Ammons

Having cycled across The Plains of Boyle,
along the Shannon and Jamestown canal,
failed to name water birds
on the whipped-up surface
of Cavetown Lough, followed
a Mass path to its loss
in a field of whin and rush,
trudged on wetlands
where a river seemed
to wallow and bend
in a ponder
of flowlessness

am hard-pressed
for the sake of it
not to cry out.
Later, as usual,
I write some lines on a postcard
telling you where I am,
how things are going.

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Copyright © 2018 Edward Denniston All rights reserved
from For Crying Out Loud
Salmon Poetry
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission