Poems Folio 2
Crow
crow can impose
dark geometries:
shape a sound
to resemble
black triangles parted
in a caw
Kintsugi
cupped receptacle
the palm seduced,
begs benediction.
flawed bowl it is
unable to hold
the cloud’s boundless
blessing,
can only recall
a wetness,
nothing more.
espresso
she is telling me
that the leaf on her morning espresso
so nicely foamed and delicately afloat
appeared to her later,
as a tree,
on a hillside heavily snowed
unfamiliar and scary.
she had floundered in the dream
panicked and breathless
searching she said
for the son she had lost.
So on a Sunday
weeks later,
sitting in her favourite coffee shop
a boy at a corner table
turns to smile at her
foamy moustache
she is sure it is her son
and calls him by his name.
i reach for her hand
pale against the white sheet
mom..i am here…
but the moment has passed.
to escape
the cacophonous light,
sunlit rivers
dream often of moonless nights:
become waters
silently seeking the sea
anonymously.
do not
repent
for a fall dying
in autumn’s confessionals.
read not a drought
in a broken urn,
or a famine
in a bone.
look beyond the hills
to horizons congregating
presaging rain.
i speak for the blood that will seed the land
tourniquet the womb,
cauterise the man,
seek anchor
in autumn’s perpetual
fall.