Murray Robertson (photography & poems)
I make photographs and poems to please myself (and share them to please you).
october was
no surprise.
see it happen!
like last time
as i passed,
goat on a grassy roof,
we were more than
a bit surprised.
no tears needed
rain is predicted,
time passes so
slowly, unnoticed.
october's gone;
december's
around an
icy corner.
it goes right by:
a peapod boat
in a trickle
of a stream.
time.time.time
heading for oblivion,
we race along
a lonely highway.
why do we smile?
fools have no wings,
reaching for the sun,
an old broken chariot,
swinging across
a summer sky.
we look for safety,
and it still eludes us;
we are so reckless.
colours fade
in our eyes
just before
darkness comes.
we are left with
black and white
and shadows.
i look south
along the lake
remembering
my little dog,
enthusiastic
hiking friend
when i see this
photograph.
i guess he
saw no colour.
his foolishness
was limited
to trusting me.
we have no limit.
Pond in the Trees
a few footsteps
and i enter
this other world.
passing through
pine trees,
i see a pond,
some place
a turtle might
inhabit,
maybe a few
small fish
swim there,
big mallard
ducks, ducking
for food.
i don't know
what they eat.
i assumed
they ate
anything.
but there,
it was
mosquitoes.
i hear their
droning attack.
and know it.
my time has
come - to leave.
autumn rains help
to bring winter
to our world.
we need our
winter quiet
letting things rest,
sleeping until
the world
precesses
and warms.
we bide our time,
remembering
fall leaf colours.
it gets us through
the winter cold,
and darkness.
a little rain
has never
hurt me much.
always I've
dried out
and carried on.
i am not safe
from drowning,
but i have not
done that yet.
history may
guide us if we're
wise enough.
we know it isn't a
perfect guide,
but it can help
save us from
repeating
serious errors .
rain washes
the windows,
as i look out
this cold, damp
autumn day.
a little rain
has never
hurt me much.
one more miracle,
a red maple tree
in the rain...
our autumn has
such vibrance
it cheers us
once again.
our days are
shorter than
they were.
it's colder
every day.
some people
want the
summer back
at least
that's what
they say
soon snow
will fall and
cover all
and everything
we see.
a cold white
world so icy...
oh, we'll just
skate and ski.
crushed and broken,
somehow beautiful,
its function passed.
providing nutrients
today, and on into
tomorrow and
tomorrow.
this maple leaf
will one day
be forgotten
and so will i.
my fathers do not
stand tall
anymore.
though, in their
day, they struggled
sometimes bravely
such is life
and living.
something was
beautiful, although
no memories
remain.
a time shall
surely come, when
i am nothing more:
a fuzzy memory,
and someone may
be remembering
the fallen.
Bright Yellow
exciting colour!
bright yellow
may make
your day.
all year we wait
for autumn
to remind us:
what a
wonderful world
we live on.
look ahead to
ice and snow,
and our dark
winter world
should give way
to springtime.
evidence is in
for reason to hope
exciting colour!
bright yellow
may make
your day.
Veined Leaf
all the little
pathways
in a leaf!
reminds me
of forgotten
choices made,
flowing with
the stream,
flowing with
the go...
then thinking
about times
and places
now inaccessible
for us, there is
no swimming
upstream, into
the mouldy past.
it seems time flows
one way only.
we cannot return,
to repair
havoc we have
sometimes wreaked.
Bright Red Berries
sitting in
the sunshine
on a cool
november day,
listening to
flocks of geese
who could not
find their way,
bright red
berries hanging
on fiercely, to
branches on
an unknown
berry bush,
never letting go.
amazing grip!
something nice
to look at,
unknown
deadliness,
but brilliant
in sunshine...
