Four Poems

Well into a grey winter afternoon
and working at a pile of documents
I came on a sketch
of Prehistoric Man collecting honey.

The desk was in a gloomy place
between partitions. The man was a thin streak
high on a bent ladder. I put it out,
self portrayal being far from common.

Also the bees were scarcely evident,
and by variation in the pressure
of a stroke a woman seemed to turn
as she looked up in anticipation.

The mark made a graceful body.
Often returning to the picture as I worked
I thought about a library
round which a manor had been built.
...