("Lost traveller's dream...")
This moon cannot be looked on long endured
Messiaen chord so bleak, annunciation,
so final, so strangely familiar -
now remember evening has these dark gifts.
Amber-ochre within bars, like sideways
drip-streaks or long fingers hiding a face
yet so deep and still and grand-gestural,
the romance groans lone on the horizon.
I cannot ever be the same again:
I have seen what Blake and Palmer saw;
I have been a stranded Time Traveller.
Take the wound given in recognition,
this sere light from last deep song diluted -
I stand still, glance at the long forgotten.
YOU ARE READING
Gifts and Shards Vol 2
PoetryThis is the second and final volume of 'Gifts and Shards'. This takes us from the second month to now well over three years later, though there were many C poems in the collections tracking the seasons. There are no similar stories!
