Peter Milner
Oh-oh-oh . . .
You know, seen from up here
the planet spinning fast or slow
depending on your measure
sun tilted glance
and a wobble at the poles
And down there, today,
feet on ground
saw flat bottomed clouds
a great armada
shaded and lit up, illuminated
folded grey shadow
sailing over
blue
Below, the year's list
the lengthening of days
this piling up of green
the pouring out
the billowing of summer
and the going over
flower fruit and seed
in all this
what we have or owe
it hardly matters
We have our time in the garden
and in the shadows of the wood
with bird throng
and things you cannot name
made of subtle light
evening comes
then night
always turning . . .
one into another
but this sadness endures
and I don’t know what to do
it won’t be banished by words
but rather seems to grow
Oh-oh-oh . . .
This is my lament
for you, he who had good heart
in which we all could live
somehow, the best of us on show
You are much missed
I wanted you to know
Commentary
This poem is a lament for Glenn Carmichael, who died unexpectedly in April 2020 after a short illness. He is mourned by many, not least those who attended his writing courses, where everyone felt valued and the craft of story-making was nurtured.