31 Mar 12
and in the shop…
“The Art of Egg”
Two Ravens Press;
“To Know Bedrock”
I cannot sketch these walls in colour,
paint reflections into household things,
transform your pale fingers
into exotic dancers
across the stage of the breakfast table.
I cannot cut holes in your silences,
turn them into star-shaped flakes
like paper doily decorations,
line your windows with them,
hang them in the naked trees.
I cannot sew beads into the sky,
embroider a moon from silver threads
to turn your view into
something more than simply winter;
I cannot pull bright silks from my sleeve.
I have only this threadbare jacket,
its pockets filled with words,
all of them white rabbits,
all of them hopping