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.