At dusk,
tangle-haired boys
light lemon-flamed torches,
spearing them into the soil.
The circle of light surrounds us,
as we sit drinking wine
around a round table.
The Lord of the Flies
cannot touch us here.
14-29 September 2008
At dusk,
tangle-haired boys
light lemon-flamed torches,
spearing them into the soil.
The circle of light surrounds us,
as we sit drinking wine
around a round table.
The Lord of the Flies
cannot touch us here.
14-29 September 2008
The trains pass
At the bottom of the garden.
In the dark, thundering thoughts
Rush through my sleep-seeking head:
Somewhere out there,
You are probably weeping.
Somewhere out there,
You may be dead.
18 September 2008
I've had several poems "percolating" for quite a while, but wasn't at all sure about any of them. I had another go at them today, and have got them to a state where I think the versions I'm putting here are possibly the best I can get, but I am still very uncertain about some of the decisions I've made. When I tell you there were some words for which I had 7 choices in the first draft, you might understand why! This is one of the "divorce" poems, written during the night after we finally heard some real progress had been made in the investigation into my ex-husband. We stayed at my friend's, (where I wrote "They Said it Would Snow" on 6 April this year.) that night, as I felt I needed some support. It's obviously a place where I can feel inspired... I don't think it's a good poem at all, though I quite like the second verse, but as with "Anniversary" (7 April, this year), I had to write something...