There are two beautiful magnolia trees that grow in the garden outside the Methodist Chapel on Bedford Road. I wrote this poem after seeing them in full bloom during lockdown 3 years ago. As I wrote, the poem came to be about how I have seen the world at different stages of my life. It’s also about Spring, the news, resurrection and the uses of data.
Three Likenesses
I
Because he had not heard the news,
the blackbird vanished in the hedge
and Et voila! he reappears
with dried up cuttings for a nest.
A Left Bank existentialist,
a Gauloises in his golden lips.
II
Because they had not been online,
the pink and white magnolias
next to the chapel in the town
flower by flower exposit Spring.
Two Tibetan monks debating
the nature of impermanence.
III
Because it had not seen the stats,
the hosta wintered out of doors,
eaten to the soil by slugs,
resurrects in thick green flames.
A basketful of sardines freshly caught,
a dead man cooking breakfast on the shore.
Covid Lockdown Spring 2020