I like this, Arthur. external and crisp and controlled, yet very emotional
bw
SallyE
on 27/4/03 8:32 pm, arthur seeley at [log in to unmask] wrote:
> Agenbite of Inwit.
>
> In the murmur of voices I recognised my name,
> laid my book aside, lifted my curtain, stepped into the glare
>
> of their scrutiny. They had gathered in shade
> under the banyan where light through leaves
>
> flickered over the grass and tufts of kapok floated.
> They waited as I read the message.
>
> My mother, somewhere, at home,
> home, somewhere, my mother was dying.
>
> They searched my eyes as I folded the paper,
> neat as a bed-sheet fresh from the line,
>
> and tucked it into the breast pocket
> of my chilled, soaked shirt.
>
> I turned to find my long road home;
> the curtain bulged in a wind from the west.
|