1984
6.158
7.vi.25
in a child’s
tub, earth’s end
ekphrastic for an
untitled sketch of Eiríkur Smith’s
harbour sketching
for this always weather
lines stood
heroics for the net, the hook
everything leans to wind
reminds us of a dying down
there’s to and fro
the living sea
gulls sweep
though not words for
bottle top bobbing
cork’s throw
the boats
like fish washed up
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: only a member of this blog may post a comment.