March 10, 2011 a flying greeting
Oh readers, I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. This has been a tough week of churning out essays and poems, going to meetings, organising people, deadlines and so on. But tomorrow I am going home, for better or for worse (at least as far as the essays are concerned) for my sister’s 30th. It will be wonderful. The whole brigade is going to upend itself into a big house on the outskirts of Hay-On-Wye, and, if all goes to plan, I will have done sufficient work to not have to take any with me. God willing (will it, oh do).
(And by the way, meet Globe Team. My friend Sonia and I are co-ordinating this motley (lovely) crew for the next three terms.)
I’ll leave you with a poem. It’s an ‘alternative love poem’ (a recent assignment). I have to admit to reusing material from an old defunct poem. It worked somehow.
I’ll be back to normal blogging capacity in a few more days.
the dawn happened with a peachy growl
pavements became real
and each leaf defined itself.
a dark wing on blessed
unholy sky, a virgin blue.
mist off the river veiled
the all-knowing eye,
a sudden dive -
rustle of ice-clasped air
fierce, unknown panic,
soft implode of scudding blood.
in the same way, unexpectedly,
my belly unearthed itself
when I glimpsed you
darkly through a window.