When I finished my last post I had three ideas for poems in my head. I have written two down ad they are half complete. One of them will stay that way as I have hit a snag that I probably can’t get past. The third, I forgot. One in three is actually not bad for me. Then another thought starts – even the one I’m working on isn’t as good as it sounded when it was in my head. It’s about a robin singing outside the chapel at the crematorium.
Robin at Budby Flash
I need a flower bed for the poem, and I can’t for the life of me remember what was in the bed I saw, apart from holly. I don’t want holly as that’s something for winter poems. I could have lilac, I like lilac. I could then mention the scent and maybe weave in a bit of death symbolism, but that would mean that I would have to make the poem occur a month earlier, at which point I have to be careful about adjusting other things which may appear. it all become more difficult to match up. I will, I think, go for rhododendrons. Not as good as lilac, but OK. They are flowering now and they are evergreen and a bit barren underneath – like holly. On the other hand, I do like lilacs . . .
But I wouldn’t get the space and the rustle of dry leaves if I used lilacs.
Then I need a robin. Not a problem. The problem comes because we have so many superstitions about robins. I have been checking them up as background reading (I like to check facts, even in a poem). I am now going to have to sift through and make sure I avoid becoming diverted.
Robin
Finally, there is the tree it flew into. It was a birch, but I always end up with birch trees. There are some nice acacias outside the doctor where I had my blood test in the morning before setting off. It needs to be a tree where you can see it singing, so an acacia will do, but it’s probably better to keep it as a birch.
I once came close to injuring myself with an acacia tree, but that’s a post for another time, or for a poem entitled “An Idiot with a Pruning Saw”.