My Field Of View
I was sitting on a brown leather sofa in my lounge
In front of me on the ceramic floor tile, an asian carpet
A black carpet with motifs of African Savannah big five animals
An elephant, a lion, buffalo, rhinoceros and a leopard
On top of the carpet a small side table 500mm square
Looking straight ahead, the corner of another leather seat on the opposite side of where i was sitting
Beyond that, a lone dining room chair
and a picture of a girl on the wall
My son's beautiful art
After that the doorway to the kitchen
And a loose upright kitchen cabinet
I wanted to refurbish that soon and mount it in its final position
Someday soon when i can take time off from writing poetry
In the kitchen there were black ceramic tiles on the floor
My flip flops were just inside the entrance to the kitchen
I was thinking how dangerous it was to leave shoes inside the doorway
Someone may trip entering the kitchen
Oh well!
The lower stable door of my kitchen was closed
The top open
Beyond the kitchen door i could see clothes
Clothes swaying in the wind pinned on the wire line with wooden pegs
Beyond the line my boundary wall
Green creepers adorned my wall
On the other property was a cottage
Prominent on its side a toilet vent pipe pointing skywards
And beyond the cottage the main house
After the main house, a tree with light green leaves
Then another further on with darker green leaves waving in the wind
In the distance grey white clouds
Now and then a voyeur of sexy blue skies in the chink of the clouds.
There were things i couldn't see
Things i knew where there regardless
I knew beyond the clouds and blue skies were stars and planets
Possibly even earth satellites lurking in near earth orbit.
I knew there were galaxies in my field of view
Not able to be see with my naked eyes
But, there were there all the same
I knew there were black holes
Dark energy
Comets
And asteroids
Pity i couldn't see them
In my field of view
C.09022022
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem