Poetry and poësie

Photographik by De Waal Venter

There are things we do not see

The shape of the cloud
kept changing;
it was a Cumulus,
and had never been seen before.
The Jack Russell who looked at it
with an appearance of pensive admiration,
saw it differently
from the meteorologist and his lovely female companion
who lay on a blanket
in the Botanical Garden,
gazing into the sky,
because their angles differed;
it was the same cloud.

David Bowie,
the female companion said lazily.
The meteorologist looked at her questiongly.
Look, there’s the nose, and the hair,
there’s his eyes – she pointed leisurely.
Looks more like Galileo Galilei to me,
the meteorologist grunted.
She gave him a playful sideways slap
in his face.
You have no imagination, she breathed.

The Jack Russell turned his head
to look at something on his back.

He had no opinion about the cloud.
He didn’t really see it.