Blue Medallion Monologue

Sitting in the garden, absorbing the sun reflected from red brick walls, while pale lettuce plants send cool moistness to overheated eyes, scent of thyme tingles, then a snail-shell, upended, rocks in the breeze caused by a fierce sparrow burrowing in a dust-bath. The blue is cracked and peeled in patterned angles, with unplumbed black shadows the hot, heavy, scented air slows thought and breaths, making being an effort –it's much easier to doze. Leaving the park I saw the blue medallion honoring a rich woman's wall, semi-blinded by an ivy flock trundling its face; no lesser, for see how the speeding clouds remap the moon fastened on the earth, as childhood verges used to play. Wild white blooms the shape that threaded meshing