Monday, 10 December 2018

Two poems from Presence 62, 2018


first glimpse

of her ultrasound

. . . opal dawn

Changing light

I don't know why we’ve taken this unknown road.  The sky's a-wash with colour and we've still a way to go. Suddenly you say: 'Look, a hare.' It's poised in the minute of that final blaze, as if in an otherworldly trance. Just one glimpse becomes a lumen print.

Then it lopes into the undergrowth.  Nothing is visible but two large ears and bright eyes peeping through burnished frondescence. What is it waiting for?  For a while we sit in the grace of the moment, expecting some miracle to happen. By now our muse has slipped into evening  . . .

changing light

the full moon offers

a koan

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