The Green Man Walks / 8 April 2016
The Green Man steps out. Ginger.
Late for the Vernal, early for May
the red orange Beltane fire.
Vapid grey skies pierced by blue
Cannot deny the yellow hue
of the daffodil, the snow of the drop
nor the vivid darkness of the bell.
The ginger man steps out. Green
The rain, the cold, the winter shroud
of hearth, quilt and blanket
kept him home but not alone
And the black tar, scarred
and shadowed pleurositic lung
raps at a lack of confidence
Keeping the green man; ginger
This green man went for a walk recently. Not the first of spring but almost. I have a consultancy waiting for me where I will be given a form which I will mark according to a grade that reflects on how ill i've been of late. One of the questions I always get asked concerns activities and willingness not ability to participate. I've always marked that low. I've never not thought about going out. I treasure my plodding, my perseverance, the feeling that I know I'll get there, to where I'm going, regardless of being told to stop, to slow my step, to breathe deep, to take my time. I don't need these words. I don't need to have my focus encouraged. I just need to close down. Not think about it. Not worry. I will always arrive having left first. I am clear about this but perhaps this year its been different somewhat. Maybe i've stayed in more. Maybe, i've spent more time on the wrong side of the window than I ever meant to. One thing for sure; I need to build up to a longer distance if i am to survive the ravage of summer, bad air, pollution. In the mean time, i'm glad to be out again. I'm glad to be striving and thriving. I'm able to give myself an exercise based on that which I notice on the outside - colour. And that's about how I got here.