Pond, woodcut by Frederick Nunley
Used here with his kind permission






 

 

 

 

 

fishpond

 

 

Pip Wilson

 

 

 

 

This is the blog where I post poetry as I find it in the fishpond outside the door of my garden flat.

 

 

 

 



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I look into a fishpond  

fishpond: a prophecy


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Tuesday, February 08, 2005

Tim shakes his head with a smile; "Lum you said

you had a vision we might call 'bacterial'?"
"I did? I forget. Oh, you bet, weirdest one yet!
Just lately seem to get these sounds through my hat.
Only happens when I eat other cereal."



The team kinda squirms. "Yeah, not about worms,

and not about germs, least, not very.
In my hat a voice says, 'Listen up, Mister Prez,
to this serial,' she says, and then disappears
loud as a buffalo herd on the prairie."

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