Far from a thought
my eyes are travelling contours
of a printed cloth.
I scatter the sounds of Sunday roads
and whispering
cisterns filling
among the feeling colours
of an easeful line,
this slow afternoon
stealing desire;
and every question sleeps
in lithe and live design,
......................
Caught up in glory of wings,
in and out the holly tree,
cleaving a grace of quick air,
trailing a singing shadow,
I carve out ponderously
among day's dreaming statues,
another incantation,
another face in a crowd.
Dissolve, absolve these ruins
in the rain, the fraudulent
slow images of never
with these unsealing gestures
born on sleeping rhetorics
dark among the holly twigs.
......................
YOU ARE READING
Tapestries
PoetryPoems from 1978 onwards. These poems are in a different style from the later MajorSeventh, the earlier ones often with more of an Eastern-influenced cadence. Later, they vary a lot in form and style.
