Tag Archives: birthday

for the child

The early hours saw footfalls fill, seconds slide and

hit your walls. Lips hung heavy, loose for change but

„We saw it all”, they say, „we were there too”

 

whether screaming hulls or aching towers

or pebble-dashed from here to home

 

all things move and clocks do such things

we can’t believe. Such things can happen, first

 

we stretch to change, and heels slot in from time to

time the time gets eaten, a force occurs and

we become you – piece by shattered air-blown piece

 

whilst crouching in corners, tearing a slice

these are hours for weary, glass-faced men

 

we all march in, our heads hang hard

as the days grow longer

 

suddenly, a striking, and

suddenly, we are old.


Axelle’s song

The shape of words, new and sweet

Dance like leaves, as mad as birds

From a grey suburban cube

Where you learnt to smell the rain

And see glass tubes across la Manche –

Finding here, the dust of plains

A little piece of history

Whether shapes in a room, seen as child

(“That shadow moved! It did…” she said)

They follow you, how can they not?

And furs climb high around your throat

Which pours a sweeter liquid yet –

Each syllable is lighter than before.