Age – a contrapuntal poem for dVerse

Half killed by lightning
paper doll
left burnt and broken
stubbornly pushing out
against the window, fluttering
green leaves, each spring
in the soft breath of the day,
as if the sap still rises
fearfully, fearfully,
joyfully, joyfully.

You are the same substance
made delicate, artifice
drinking the rain, eating the sun,
dressed in soft paleness
oak tree imagining the world
carrying a parasol, an umbrella,
feet deep in the dark soil
hands reaching, reaching,
branches open wide
fearfully, fearfully,
joyfully, joyfully.

This is for Paul at dVerse. It’s a contrapuntal poem – two poems that can be read separately or combined to form something new. The formatting on WordPress has defeated me on several occasions, so the only way I could think of separating the poems was to put one in plain font and one in italics. Three poems for the price of one! Bargain.



You cast a stone across the frozen pond:

we watched it spin and dance over the ice –

sound blossoming like a white flower in the silence.

That was all.



And that clear note chiming under an empty sky.



This is for Bjorn at dVerse, who is considering the spaces between words. I have failed to add a recording, because I can’t quite master the technology, and all the teenagers are out of the house.