The Marsh

An Iraqi way of life is back from the dead?




On a bark he stands

Tall, erect, pole in hand

Clothed in black

A scarf around his neck

Head bent, eyes intent

He looks with care

At the marsh below

Watching, waiting

For the water to break

Attentive to the sounds

Careful of the reeds


In the distance

Ghostly in the morning light

Lies a ruin

Of some forgotten past

Buildings crumbling into dust

No doubt a village

Uninhabited, deserted, desolate.


Part 11


Was it yesterday, or years ago?

He forgets

In seasons past, long ago

Tales were told

The marsh’s life was full of hope

Harvests bountiful

In spring and autumn dances held

Children leant the trade

They learnt to hunt

They learnt to fish

Old men watched and smoked

Then one day the waters stopped

The marsh drained and dried


Part 111


Today the waters flow

His boat is sturdy

His hope is high

Can it be true?

Will the fish fly?

Will the marsh live?

Or is it bound to die? David Nutt, March 2005


short stories
An Unusual Request
Bewitched and be wildered
A cry from the heart
Fate played a devilish hand
Frustration with a capital F
A roll of the dice
Living in the shadow of death
A lesson well learnt
The wedding
A pleasant ride, a pleasant talk
Sweet revenge
Drum beat, heartbeat
Skin deep
They came, they left no trace
The window cleaner
A delayed meeting
Hold on tight
In the name of my parents
Strange events
Sequel to Frustration with a capital F
A strange and beautiful love affair
The doll's dilemma, a chage of style
The poster hanger - It had to happen
They had nothing in common
A misplaced letter
Life's mysteries
An ode to cheese
The marshes
Waiting in vain
Day follows day
Sounds of the future
The dream of flight

writing in Paris, copyright 2005