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

Friday, 4 November 2011


This is sootfall, and a freefall too down from inky space, a wash of prussian and ochre, the swift hours’ handprints visible and then gone.

You are a flush of light. You are night and the days piling up behind, a wake of ashes and stars.

You are a slow flow and tumble; you are the raven’s call, and the deep bassoon thrum of the dark’s waterfall, the staircase between worlds.

A flurry of embers. A smudge on the cool air. Fingerprint in space. The human race speeding up. Slipstream. Your own heart thrust into blossom.

~ Roselle Angwin, from Bardo


  1. Oh I love it. Sootfall. Brilliant word. And the whole motion of the piece.

  2. Veronica, you have no idea what a difference comments like that make. Thank you, thank you. Rx


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