Wednesday, 30 October 2013

1 New Poem

Church Shoe Monuments

A brush with breezy autumn's sunlight became
today's silver greeting chorus, stemming cut
of hallowed glass stain in quadrilateral window
cast: apostles of Christ and tales told by
furious chime rendered in grandmother's voice at
the bed foot beneath pine box and winter's comfort.

Childhood's time to ask intemperate questions of
the lines in mother's apron strings and the
starch stiffness of father's work shift drawings
was coming nearer its end in rhythmic repose,
asking how we'd fail at the next pace -

Like chalices of feeling offered to drink, knowing
you'll live a life and then some without its
bitter pill persona and be better for that
not; untangled a mess of hair, sopping dog
wet in Pacific's pickling salt, knots in ship dock
style framing in care your eyes of infant boy's blue.

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