Kintsugi

 

By Robert Kingston

 

We enter the towpath at Papermill Lock. Passing the houseboats, we walk for about a mile in light drizzle, before a left turn takes us into a glistening field of green barley.

 

sucking water

from the crop

our blue jeans

with tide lines

at groin height

 

Reaching the edge of the field, we pause for a moment at the graveyard fence, as I point to the nest box at the top of the bell tower I’d spotted on an earlier visit.

 

looking out

a baby osprey

poised to fly 

stumbles back in

to its safe house

 

Continuing on, we rise and fall as we cross fields of wheat and corn, pass through a lane lined with varied trees, including Yew, Willows and Oaks, and properties to die for, before arriving at the midway point.

 

retiring early

the weight of his cancer

not yet ready

to give way

to the sun

 

 

Copyright Rob Kingston