So much of the real
is beyond our notice—
creamy blossoms hide thorns
the blind dog blinks
in front of a rabbit
light burrows through clouds
shadowing
a month of
Sundays
twelve friends for lunch
hymns unpractised
fingers slow in the cold
the band greets the new ones—
work makes us free
the key’s all wrong
steel lines fade into fog
on the map it says
all this, definitely,
is somewhere over there
cups and thermos
rainbows come with rain
the tumour takes
fast—
moments without end, beginning
are enough
side by side, shoes,
the smoothed sheet
from an empty room
dying flowers
call her name
hyssop, caraway, chocolate mint
sharp in the bed of joy
a dry, veiny eye
of lunar honesty
dangles a web
puddles in cut fields
reflect the hasty sky
flashes on the toll road
to Chiiori—
low sun, shuttered
fried eggs for supper
—it’s all that’s left
Aga fuel
climbs the hill
ready for starved lambs
skinning corpses for the lies
that give life to the living
shunned by the wise
the ragwort
flaunts its yellow head
in the chilly bathroom
my face is washed and dried.
Participants
Alec Finlay (master), UK
Alex Hodby,
UK
Felicity Manning, UK
Beth Rowson, UK
Elisabeth Sutherland,
UK
Tom Richardson, UK
Roger Selby, UK
