Prodded myself to go for a walk last night (early evening, twilight, gloaming, dusk …) and was rewarded by a glorious over-reaching sunset that bloomed above me as I walked Bayfield Park, alongside the inlet. It was spotted by many others with many pics on social media – including one from my daughter from a supermarket’s car park.





The thing was, in the time that I had my back to the harbour, heading east, I didn’t know the sunset was happening behind me until I turned round and – woah!
For such splendour to be completely silent, is perhaps the sky’s greatest power.
Listening: To Bluegrass on Spotify.
Which reminds me of a poem I wrote many years ago while listening to Gillian Welch:
so green it’s blue
This music I listen to is homesick
for a bayou. It is a foreign accent
in a suburb gurgling with lawnmowers
performing breaststroke
through oceans of grass; swirling
with the catfight-maul of electric saws.
It is music that picks and pines
and talks of grass so green it’s blue.
This plucked banjo
I listen to in my home far
from any Virginian heart breaker,
piano pedal pusher, is so agile
it trips the light
like a highland dancer
the Sword Dance, pointing toes
over invisible steel ropes that
twang, even in the rain, with the sweetness
of a guitar bleeding blue, it reaches
through to stop the heart in its train tracks,
here in this small city of mine, fastened
to fast-cooled volcanic remains, built to last
upon the crust of hardened magma.
Kay McKenzie Cooke
Lovely post Kay! Reading this made me think you might enjoy this post “Livin’ the Blues” that I read very recently: https://shoreacres.wordpress.com/2020/04/24/livin-the-blues/
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Very interesting. Thank you Liz.
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