A Fir Tree Cathedral (Revised) Poem by Margaret Alice Second

Home after work, License To Kill on TV, daily James
Bond showing eases my feelings – 007 always in the
background; I made a mess of today, after watching
fishes in the sea, staying in a log cabin under fir trees
sighing, walking in sacred silence to the beach under
this tall green canopy – living in a tree cathedral for
the weekend

Tried to forget the beauty, concentrate on routines,
heartbroken - returning to intolerable documents
after glimpsing heaven beyond my ability, suffering
upon leaving perfect marvels, returning to boredom,
impossible to remain calm; if only I could be a secret
agent like Bond and bureaucracy a façade to simply
hide my true ability - but I had to be impassively

Ensconced behind my desk helpfully doing my best,
yet except for making a list I accomplished nothing
because the wonderful visit to a wild-life sanctuary
bordering the seaside still holds my heart in thrall;
I cannot see anything around me…