for Liz
In the kitchen window sits a ceramic vase
the shape of a woman's thighs,
blue clouds floating in a white sky,
all in all the colour of a delft tile.
And a fleet of sailing ships
laden with silks and spices
is heading for a Dutch canal.
Overseen by a windmill, of course,
or rather a family of them,
all tilting their sails to the winds of trade.
The whole tableau encased in a blue petalled heart.
Not tulip petals, as you'd perhaps suppose,
from a scene about life in The Golden Age.
But there is, I find, no such thing as a true blue tulip.
And outside the window a robot mower
saunters along a fixed path,
doubles back, circles, takes up the trail again,
like a dog on the scent of
but not in a hurry
to get the job done.
Enough to remind me of the passage of time,
progress and the obsolete
and a nudge to plant bulbs now
if I want a dutch tableau in the garden next Spring.
Copyright 2026 Cathy Leonard
