A Poetry Sporadical of Repeating Forms
A Poetry Sporadical of Repeating Forms
Winter sunset creeps over the islands.
Winter sunset creeps over the islands.
A milk-glass evening melts into ashes.
A milk-glass evening melts into ashes.
Glass sunset melts over into a winter.
Evening creeps. The islands milk ashes.
Bound in white mists, the sun rackets and swoops.
Bound in white mists, the sun rackets and swoops.
It marks the places where we store shadows.
It marks the places where we store shadows.
We and mists store sun. It swoops in the marks.
Rackets bound where the white places shadows.
Smoky fires of fading feeling flare up
Smoky fires of fading feeling flare up
We lie even in the teeth of the wind
We lie even in the teeth of the wind
We even wind up the smoky flare of feeling,
Lie in the fading fires of teeth.
Winter swoops. It melts the fading fires,
mists over the sun—a smoky flare of the
sunset feeling—and we bound into
evening places. Teeth lie in the ashes of
rackets; creeps store islands in milk-white
shadows. The glass marks where even we wind up.
Mary Cresswell is from Los Angeles and lives on the Kapiti coast north of Wellington, New Zealand. Her second book, Nearest & Dearest, was published in 2009 by Steele Roberts Ltd, Wellington. She is interviewed about it here.