Orchard

On my way to the sea / I passed an orchard // the branches of the trees / exposed to the prevailing / sea wind / were tangled // likewise their shadows // that day there was no wind // the cows in the orchard / twitched their flanks in the sunlight / to disturb the flies // in the tangled shadows daisies / made me imagine / how a grain of sand might open / and white petals radiate / from the opened yellow grain // the late blossom on a tree / at the orchard s edge / was the colour of my brain / white rose with flecks of light and blood // thoughts in a brain / stay invisible / hence words to reveal. // I thought: / every day this orchard / is part of / a gale.