September (On the Cusp 2)

DANCES ON THE CUSP

I passed the school
and looked back 
from where the road climbed.
The playground was crowded,
noisy and in motion.

There were children in white shirts
and children in crimson sweaters,
half and half more or less.
They mixed together
with darting runs and sudden greetings.

It was September.
Summer grace-notes
nimble breezes
dances
on the cusp.
                

Published by davidcookpoet

I am a husband, father and grandfather. I retired from a busy working life as an adult psychiatrist in 2014. My interests are in literature, philosophy, modern jazz and horse racing. I might represent those four fields by Shakespeare, Kant, Charlie Parker and Lester Piggott. Like nearly all of us, I can identify a number of formative experiences, one of which was a psychotic episode in my first year as a psychiatrist. This reinforced an already established interest in mystical experience, and a sense of how little human beings know. My intellectual bugbear is reductive materialism, and I am surprised at the lack of moral imagination of those who promulgate such views. It seems to me they need to consider ,perhaps by exposure, just why totalitarianism is so horrific.

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