Thursday, June 19, 2003
It's been a good weekend back in Sydney, catching up with old friends, and remaking the acquaintance of the sea by going out for a paddle under the Harbour Bridge. Oh, and eating a lot of seafood, of course.
This poem from my writing splurge a fortnight ago:
Dusk, Sculpture Symposium
The moon is up early
a fingernail clipping the sky
impregnated by sunset
each night she will swell
floating with increasing heaviness
among bubble bath clouds
Stones become seers
hoods thrown back
to the full beauty of the moon
now terrible in her luminosity
exulting in the chant
of her priests:
the wind rising
sand transformed by magic
into puddles of light
the song mounts
the goddess labours
stretched on her gauzy bed of stars
Clouds hide her modesty
at the ultimate moment
and the cough of gravel
bids us turn away
back to the town of mortals
whose lights beckon below.
Speaking of the sea, here's another, written a year ago, which expresses how I feel about it:
Replenishing the basket
I’m a rockpool voyeur
sea sliding slyly
snuggles at my feet
Child-discovery all around
as sunset subsides.
Gull rockets crazily above
To where waves toy
with human matchsticks
bobbing like hopeful slugs.
(I see one now, tossed
carelessly feet-up…)
Water and sea-sand smell
come: fill me.
I am all emptied out.
The basket is yours to fill.
Mona Vale, 10/8/02
Piokiwi 7:43 pm
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