Saturday, June 19, 2010

Ana, I say, each winter I get more lonely.


A palm tree in the dead of winter. June 2010.

If you've not had the chance to get onto the new master of the Rolling Stones' Exile on Main Street, get out there and get your grubby little hands on it. Don't make the mistake and think that it's sloppy. It's relaxed, but dudes, it is tight.

Name of a Tree, Catherine Anderson

Some days I am Ana's teacher, some days she is mine.
This morning, we look through her kitchen window,
the one she can't get clean, cobwebs massed
between sash and pane. The sky is blue-gold, almost
the colour of home.
Ana, I say, each winter
I get more lonely. Both of us would like the sun
to linger as that round fruit in June, but Ana says
it's better to forget what you used to know...

3 comments:

Magpie said...

The texture is wonderful. It makes the tree look like the old man of the forest and not a palm tree.

Carola said...

Never seen a palm tree like this. And never thought about winter when seeing one of these trees.

Kris said...

It doesn't scream "winter" to me, yet it is winter!