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, 24 September 2012

Autumn Equinox poem

On Hameldown’s shoulders
the mist rises and falls like breath
and here where we tramp through bog
is a palette of mauve and carmine seeding heads
of scabious, red sedge, miniature yellow pimpernel
and bog cotton. Later we discover that we have
simply made lagging circles, but it doesn’t matter –
nor does the rain or fog or the fact that we’re lost.

You lift a spray of bloodred rowanberries to your hat
and the dogs leap and tear in exuberant muddy circles
and on this my birthday, this stillpoint of the turning year
I’m soaked to the bone in full waterproofs even before
I find myself prone in the boggy mud
and I’m laughing to be here with you my daughter
to be here another year and the earth still turning

and the sun still rising each day – and life
oh life is good.

~ Roselle Angwin


  1. Beautiful, funny and heartwarming ... and happy birthday!

  2. David, as always I so appreciate your comment. Thank you.


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