Tuesday, 28 July 2015

Last Line

'She gathers from where they tremble among stalks of green grass,
black, grey and white feathers that never rest but fly again from out of her pockets like clouds

or cold flames'.

Kay McKenzie Cooke


swallow, Sinclair Wetlands, Otago, New Zealand


heron, Kyoto, Japan


crow, Kyoto, Japan


gull, Rostock, Germany


two black-backed gulls and one red-billed gull, Wellington, New Zealand


gulls, Dunedin, New Zealand


resting gull, Dunedin, New Zealand

Below is the complete poem:

disparate

I walk over the veins of a lawn and sink into the green that flies into every night when darkness turns to frost.

I remember. Through a gate, down a path to a door I will never forget.

The clock has been silenced so that I can sleep undisturbed by any charge of bells into a darkness
as deep as a mad eye.

The flowers bow their ponderous heads. I can see where the rain has fallen.

In the morning I consider the tenacity of the sun,
its bitter light.

I observe an empty chair, straight-backed and wooden in the middle of the room,
how it sits in judgement.

She has nothing in her hands.

I hear a mother who speaks to her baby in a language she does not understand. I know
the mother waits for the baby to grow old. The baby is my mother. This is a dream.

The trees in the garden have no doubts. I regard their umpire stance, the way they study
the sky.
The way they close like great gates.

In the shade of a wall, I have found a broken stone.

Sudden with shadows, the corner of my eye cannot see
where the light begins
its sad cycling.

She gathers from where they tremble among stalks of green grass,
black, grey and white feathers that never rest but fly again from out of her pockets like clouds
or cold flames.

Kay McKenzie Cooke

2 comments:

Dona Bogart said...

Simply beautiful.

Kay Cooke said...

Thanks dear friend.

Harbour

Harbour
'how this all harbours light'