An ardour in the wind, flowers
thickening into spring. Thaws
afflict the mind, rivers of disaster.
They step, thin, lyrical,
out of the birches, they stand shining,
their footprints dark behind them
breaking the frozen grasses.
As if a myth had suddenly spoken
everything went silent, the sun blazed
silver, an intensity of motion,
the thrill of a knife cutting
then and now or the sudden
fall of a hawk, a shadow lapped
and vanishing in water, an eyelid
snapping open, dazzled full.
Alison Croggon, Williamstown, Australia
Blog: http://theatrenotes.blogspot.com
Editor, Masthead: http://masthead.net.au
Home page: http://alisoncroggon.com
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