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, 11 February 2011

dancing on the edge of the void

this morning poetry
this afternoon shovelling dung
curlews’ song
glimpses of sky
everything bears us
the river’s scintilla
no words for the way
the shimmer
breaks up the forest
see how the wind skips
against the falling tide
lightly runs fingers all up
the river’s wide back
across the water     voices
I want to dance
on the edge of the void
and not mind falling
I love these faded hydrangeas –
their aqua, mauve, plum –
in this scuffed blue jug
more than I ever loved
their pristine pink in spring
you know you’re real
once you’re worn ragged, threadbare
and love is like rain
washing everything clean
    after all

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