Vertical line wafer-cotton-thin
Top to bottom, heaven to earth
Perfection drawing down to gravity
Pure line cuts through messed-up years
Soul-tearing conflicts, each side’s tug of war
Mary Featherstone
Vertical line wafer-cotton-thin
Top to bottom, heaven to earth
Perfection drawing down to gravity
Pure line cuts through messed-up years
Soul-tearing conflicts, each side’s tug of war
Shrink, priest
And confessor
The gym coach listens
In muscular manner
The person she thought that she was
Is unravelled by time
The seams of her body
The paths of her mind
The reasoning tongue
Now forked
All certainty gone
The fabric of dreams and of life
Full of holes
Light fractures
On entering earth
Has a hard job
Staying whole
On hitting the atmosphere
Fruit on the tree
Turns to ash
And spirals
Slow and graceful
on the morning air
settling on bent shoulders
the silver powder
of broken dreams
Form
Under the patina
Ochre and brown
Varnished and cracked
Of our worldwise traditions
Carving a trace through time
You weave between the pillars
Of my dark forest, moving them gently
To make space for shafts of light …
Creusant un sillon à travers le temps
Tu navigues entre les piliers
De ma fôret sombre …