Bird-man comes to the
Park, early, every day,
Same shirt and same hat,
Always the same way,
He swings a golf club,
Walks, repeats his routine
Each day, feeding the birds,
I think he's a machine...
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Random Rhymes From An Expat Living A Long Way From Home
Image by Mark Harm Niemeyer
Far Out (By Philip Larkin)
Beyond the bright cartoons
Are darker spaces where
Small cloudy nests of stars
Seem to float on the air.
These have no proper names:
Men out alone at night
Never look up at them
For guidance or delight.
For such evasive dust
Can make so little clear:
Much less is known than not,
More far than near.
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