AS ONE
to study the white wings of the sea
dragging it’s fine grains like trailers,is to look into
your eyes like suns sunken in their melody
this beauty stares
thrown down into the sea of diamond jets
mind swimming into mind
things have beginnings and endings—
this is Limbo between the decks of a ship.electric bells
move tears,cleaving ravines down your stonelike cheeks.we had
walked under the rain altars—
spirits of the desert,coming to this page
turned by the frivolous wind.different coloured chapters
the dead hour
when the arrows are shot at 90 and three mourn
full tones ring out eyes
this time see,passing from rock cliffs to purple sea
sea sky and sound
alternate
sound sky sea
striking fingers of light
(20 lines)
(to appear in the Book of Dreams)
SHE WAITS
looking out the window,head
tilting back and forth
now and again on tip toes
straining into the net
curtain.i imagine her furrowed brow
the brown spots in her eyes
flicking from side to side,fingers
leaving their misty prints
on the wood.all I can see is her
ragged hair and apron strings
swaying,from the back window to the
front,ears peering like a cat.the tea
is in the oven,nearly four hrs have gone
by,yet the birds still sing and the
dog watches.the click of the phone
her aching bones slotting into place
(16 lines)
(to appear in the National Poetry Anathology 2011)
