The influence of natural objects

by John Boland

Love’s energy spent,
the room assumes
a new texture.

Come to the window,
look, it is raining.

Five starlings
crystallise the lawn,
wet plumage on fire.

Rising, they wheel,
blurs of insolence,
towards the trees.

A rainbow frames the sky,
streaked with gold
and all the colours
you could name, my love.

Stars emerge.

How could we be
other than happy?

Previous post:

Next post: