They say, of love, when alteration finds, it is not changed But by love, am I rearranged The pieces of me taken up, and built, anew But this time, being formed with you. And so, I give my form to thee That your form, mine, might also be. And of my joys, for evermore, IContinue reading “For G & F”
Author Archives: kmcg
Pelican
I watched the pelicans today Alone with stranger company. I watched them sleeping, in folded forms Like six strewn pillows, they lay On the rock in St James’ Park Where watchfulness did charge the air A ripple of wakefulness Skimmed through the company Limbs and wings and things were limbered; Unfolding, painfully, into the greyContinue reading “Pelican”
Wounds
A novitiate, I scaled to reach The lab, a lofty, high building Invaded by light in illuminating shafts Exposing galaxies of scintillating dust Orbiting in gentle ellipses, The constellation of microscope observatories. Pages of pared down Picasso dove Line diagrams; distilled, drawn cells Deciphered, decoded, demystified My textbook recording the divined Cellular art, aligned, orderlyContinue reading “Wounds”
The first night
The evening of the first day Of newness, was it bright? After the stone-heavy coldness of death Had flooded with cavernous light? Were they, who’d slept in the garden, Willing the morning on? Wide-eyed for dawn, recounting the day That the statutes of death had gone. I’ve lost a loved one and slept Fitful, wakingContinue reading “The first night”
The Annunciation
Archangel, how do you move? Star-slinging, epoch gathering, Undreaming, dream-reading. Bearing the Eternal “Will you?” At what time of day, olamic angel Did you visit the One who in her “Yes” Would become Visitor to comfort the comfortless? Are your wings, Archangel As I imagine them, or as Fra Angelico? Heavy, unruly swans, tethered andContinue reading “The Annunciation”
Dawn
This is my dawn; my morning offering. Early enough that the town lags behind me in its rising. My journey culminates somewhere in your consciousness. Had I met you yesterday, we would have been passers by. Now I hold you in my hands, young and unworthy, and you hold my attention. First put on theContinue reading “Dawn”
The Maelstrom
The wee boat is painfully simple But sure, it must have made light work Of the pathways of the sea, For here it is, blithe boat Afloat but how it’s powered, Heaven knows. In dreams I am never party to its passage I spy it after and only then, aft Poor stowaway of my own imagining.Continue reading “The Maelstrom”
Going Away Coat
After Seamus Heaney’s “The Underground” I waited until you hunted, Head down in the depths of that first shared wardrobe, for your tie. Muffled by the closet, you unraveled evening plans like silk string The bow of your back, curved as an archer, as you messed and rummaged Babbling your words into my newContinue reading “Going Away Coat”
After the Pipes
Don’t forget, but look at the piper, for there’s something loving in the way he cradles the music in his arms. In much the same way as you would hold on to a baby. He holds lightly to what I would cling to, and in the space where holder and held meets is made something new andContinue reading “After the Pipes”
Handkerchief
Some handkerchiefs have always been yours; others are those that you have inherited, stolen or been given. Those given come with succour that seems to be weaved into the cloth.
