Poems

 

Things That Fall

 

Angels, apples, arches, darkness

curtains, fledglings, feet and tears,

empires, lemmings, seed, the mighty,
pearls of wisdom, stuntmen, shares.
London Bridge, light rain and spirits,
pennies, snow and mercury.

Night and conkers, drizzle, women,
Humpty Dumpty, silence, hail,
stars, Niagara, socks and shadows,
anchors, timber, Jack and Jill,
parachutes and faces, prices,
dew and meteors, crests and scales.

Big Sky Bookmark

The Butcher's Boy 

It was there on the step in the morning -

a rusty stain, perhaps a drip
from the guttering. The woman
of the house was quick
to point it out to the girl, but she -
young as she was, and so bedazzled
by the boy who brought the meat -
could hardly make it out.
The step could have been thick with moss,
so weightless were her feet as she stood
open-handed in the afternoon
to take the parcel wrapped in off-white
paper slowly softening
in places where the thin tan blood seeped through,
when, in the pause between 'Your' and 'meat'
he kissed her, once.
She had to wait
in the cool dark of the hall
for her blood to slow. Even now
the smell of raw meat makes her think
of his mouth, hot as a dog's, his cool, quick tongue,
and, in the morning, kneeling
with her hair falling, strands in her mouth,
dragging the sturdy brush across the soap.
( Published in 'Smith's Knoll', 2002 )

Shipbuilding 

He was tired of his landlocked life - was pulled

by the sea, dreamed of sailing the curve of the world.

He told her this as they walked on the towpath

set her thinking of open water.

She held the idea of a boat all the way home

nursing it carefully in her shallow palms

painted it blue and white with golden portholes
set it on her bedside table.

That night she saw the sails unfurl

watched the shadows grow on the wall

until the keel and mast with its intricate rigging
scraped against the bed, pushed open the ceiling.

She walked the varnished boards from stern to bow

traced the brass rails, the coils of rope,

filled the hold with food and barrels of water

imagined a lighted lamp, unfolded a chart

and waited for the tide to come in with the dark.

( Published in 'Other Poetry', 2003 )