from BARDO

The stars are in our belly; the Milky Way our umbilicus.

Is it a consolation that the stuff of which we’re made

is star-stuff too?

– That wherever you go you can never fully disappear –

dispersal only: carbon, hydrogen, nitrogen, oxygen.

Tree, rain, coal, glow-worm, horse, gnat, rock.

Roselle Angwin

Monday, 28 February 2011

Gannets in the Sound of Mull

a day of sudden rainbows

against the Ross with its forelit wolf-grey squalliness
the buds of gannets burst pure creamy-white
like punctuation

here where ankle-deep in green water
mountains cluster like cattle

the bird in me wheels
dips for fish
rises again and again
like a white flame


the air holds its own trace of me
though the ground I walk on is


answers are a dereliction, for – look –
we are bathed in the slough of dead stars


when ‘I’ am no longer here
still forests will rise and decay
still oceans fill and vaporise

the atoms of me will be distilled
into stamen, bark, shark-tooth


something of me may linger
in a grand-child’s first steps
the way he smiles
the way she loves to watch
the birds


these friends, this light rain at dusk
this life!


it's not words that will
save us

– Roselle Angwin

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