Forgiveness

I looked down only for a minute
to scribble something
(meaningful)
in my journal,
lifted up my eyes and it was gone.

All of it --
foreshore,
headland,
horizon.

Suddenly shrouded in a veil of soft grey mist,
making mystery of what was,

like a covering over all of my sins.

Lesley-Anne Evans
July 2009

Crescendo

There’s music in the vineyard --
a rising tympani of leaves
exposing their soft bellies to
the western wind.

Harmonies of vine and wire
vine and wire, vine and wire
and the rhythm of staccato posts
support the melody.

Bees buzz, tasting floral hints
of autumn’s fruit
while heavy hot summer sun
pulls the song from root to blossom tip.

There’s music in the vineyard --
a complex composition carries on.
And, the cry of red-tailed hawk -
a grace note.


Lesley-Anne Evans
01/07/2009

Crow Babies

photography by Claire Evans


The whole, wide, white-crested ocean
and within clear view of your
wind beaten pine
was not enough
to draw your
bright, black, beady-eyed attention.

Instead, you flew
with your fuzzy-headed sibling
from pine branch to cedar-shake roof
of the cottage next door,
chortling softly to each other
and attempted to take a bath
in the rain water trapped in the gutter.

Lesley-Anne Evans
July 2009

Walk a mile

photography by Claire Evans



Say nothing.

First, slip your foot into
my travel-worn shoes.

Can you see
scenic bi-ways, foot paths
and well intentioned plans
realized but for weather and love?

If so,
come share
the warmth of my hobo fire
and billy can coffee.

If not,
wipe the dust from your feet
and walk on down the road

in silence.

Lesley-Anne Evans
July 2009