Behind the house on a bright spring day
When the sun at last had come to stay,
A woodpecker tapped on a hollow tree
And sent secret messages down to me.
He tapped all the morning and then flew away,
What did he tell me? What did he say?
“The summer is coming, it won’t be too long!”
That was the gist of the woodpecker’s song.
19.2.77
Early tomatoes
On the window ledge
Slowly turning red
In summer sunshine.
Fresh mint and parsley
Waiting for potatoes
Steaming and buttered
In the willow dish.
Full-blown Peace petals
Fall on the table
Near raspberries fresh
Picked for jam making.
Gingham curtains blow
Sunshine and shadows
While wasps explore
The scraps saved for Puss.
Grandfather spreads out
His morning paper,
Puts on his glasses
And starts his day.
At night when lights within the house turned high
Shine out in answer to the starlit sky,
I go outside to close the shutters tight
Against the rigours of the winter’s night.
I lift each hook and push the shutter to,
Catching a gentle vision as I do,
Behind the panes, of faces that I love,
My whole world’s gift and sacred treasure trove,
Each unaware within his frame of light
Of causing me, the watcher, such delight.
Then am I moved profoundly as I see
How blessed fortune has so favoured me.
(finished in Erasmus Hospital, Brussels 8.2.89)
I have a homing instinct for the stars 
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