Time draws back, crashes
at the shore
now.
A girl catches the sun
in a pocket mirror,
it glints,
she trudges through the sand,
lines ripple at her feet
poems slip
echo
tangle in spinifex
trace
to the reedy estuary
here her dog finds
the wildcat’s body
nuzzles it,
tastes it
circles back to the girl
salt water and fresh water
meet up river, frog spawn gell
gods are here, creatures
run from them
leap into the bush, the hills, fly,
and God on the cross around the girl’s neck
murmurs, reminds her
she’s seen the sun rise out of the sea
an orb
seen it set in the hills
in amber cloud
and rise again
ugly grief stumbles with her
mouth wrung wrenched she whimpers
stutters it, that death is with her
its nothing nothing
Time crashes at the shore, draws back
she tears at the chain, breaks it,
arm turning to wing
vortex tip
I tried to take up Kevin's challenge in 'Apparently' that listed all the things you couldn't write poetry about anymore and see if I could get them into, or reference them all in one poem. I did miss out 'You can’t write poems about yourself or your coterie of friends any more
ReplyDeleteYou can’t expect a poem’s retreads not to be bald by the final stanza any more'. It led me somewhere I wouldn't have gone otherwise.
And thanks Robbie!
ReplyDeleteinteresting. It has a strange static landscape painting kind of quality for me.
ReplyDeleteIt is interesting it had that effect for you, I was working to a pattern, flow I wouldn't have otherwise. I'm sure Susan's poems exploring mythology had an influence too.
ReplyDeleteI feel the cold spray, the cut of the chain, stumble through the sand and grit of grief with this poem
ReplyDelete