Посред бял ден/In broad daylight

За Марина/For Marina

In parkland we’re lit with August sun

and afternoon strollers disperse, coalesce

around a lily pond’s surface tessellations.

It’s all coming together in so many words

and we’re taking up again conversations

time and the geography failed to disrupt.

Almost inconceivable not to be here,

with summer verging into plenitude

and shrub blossom haloing bronzes

of those who’ve created, preserved,

marking pathways through the trees.

A singular brightness – like the one

you bring to the humble, everyday –

hazes out squared city horizons.

Were it night, I’d be thanking lucky stars,

though there’s no need: you’ve already

brought to light those of your own making.

In the grounds of a seminary, we’re talking

of eye-tints, perspective, minutiae of

a given world we both have our cares for –

only now I see it, here amongst leaf shadows,

illuminated for us, this place, your gift.

17 July is St Marina's Day in Bulgaria: this poem is for Marina Shiderova - a wonderful collaborator and friend with love and gratitude on her name day - Tom.

Image: Marina Shiderova; text: Tom Phillips