series2bk6.084

 

You alight on the ploughman's furrow like a scavenging bird from the Third World, bead-eyed and hungry, amongst others waiting for a scattering of seed; but I need my time for solo contemplation. My relationship with you intrudes on the pattern which matters for the smooth unfolding of my daily routine; and (meanly perhaps) I distrust making adjustments, just to see that your presence is included. It's the crude taboo usage of my naked body that (God forbid!) you'd take if you could - covertly loving me, with declarations unstated, and blindly finding the door closed shut, and bolted.      Although I stand devoid of any blame,      your courting me has tarnished my good name.