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

Thursday, 9 August 2018

the next day – a poem


The next day

Above my head the mouse
has started nibbling again

perhaps this time it’ll be
the wiring – who knows –

and above a single swallow
arcs over the ash’s bare twigs

above both ash and swallow
a pigeon purposeful and fast


the ash is dying

and who knew that the sky could bear
such an absence of swallows


the world has its ten thousand
ways of being born    living

and leaving this world
and I am still here writing

about these things
because I can’t write about her

but look the evening
has its ten thousand ways

of being beautiful
look how you can see

right through the sky now




© Roselle Angwin 2018





 

3 comments:

  1. Miriam says: 'Your poem’s a gem and, as usual, goes right to the heart of things... beautiful... All the beauty and poignancy of nowness, made all the more vivid by its spareness. Something I've never quite mastered. I wish I knew why.xx'


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  2. Chris, Miriam - thank you both so much. It's good to feel the poetry-well filling again after a dry spell; or at least poetry-dry, as have been concentrating on the narrative non-fiction book instead.

    Love to you both (trust the puppy is a delight, Chris!).

    Rx

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