Two Poems

Waiting for Rescue

all the strokes of the pendulum
skeltered in a heap
caustic waste
in the dark hallway

where the clock
too pregnant to see her feet
couldn’t see
what passed through
her hands
and what lies there

strewn together like jackstraws
            stroke
                          STROKE
                   stroke
              stroke
touch one
tumble them all
don’t breathe I say don’t
                                    wait                  wait
           WADE                          WADE
through splinters and sticks
dust speckles
float in the sunshine
from the smashed-in front door
kick them up
into the air

while the clock strokes
her belly and her face, her time
is coming
growing
drifting with intent
in a fearful
configuration

 

Promontory

Tonight we shall scramble
the stars of Orion

tread on the butterflies
lining the time track

hoping to echo down
alleys of centuries

trimming our words to the
heights of the hills

Half-collapsed mountains
diffident canyons

hug the red cliffs on the
long road to nowhere

half-recalled starshine
trickles through rockslides

Tonight is for scrambling
the stars of Orion

the soft of the spring wind
the fullness of moons

—Mary Cresswell, Paraparaumu, Kapiti, New Zealand

 

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