LANDSCAPES from Minus One

1.Tied by mortal feet

to an inland place,

I would be one of

Lir’s unhappy swans

blown across the wintry

straits of Moyle

This bland wind has

no taste, no smell.

It sweeps down fiercely

from the hills

and knocks the heads

off blooms already dead.

2. Heedless of the

grey, polluted air

the whins blazed.

I gazed and saw them

shine above the singing

northern sands.

Some bastard

burned them down.

The skinny twigs are twisted

black and crumbling.

Street-locked and bereft

I am left to suffocate.

A poem for “My Girl”

The music filled the room

We pushed the table back

Stacked the chairs and

Formed a ring to watch

My daughter dance

Spangled eyes alight

With joy of movement

She whirled, birled

Arms and legs abandoned

And while she whirled she changed

Grew, evolved, emerged

A stranger unconnected

All her own self, on her own

Future firing headlong

Detached from my detaining hands

The beat drummed louder

Finished and the stranger sank

Triumphant, flushed and

Laughing, enjoying our applause

Turned to me for confirmation

My girl again

But never quite the same.

3 Haikus

  1. Blessed, healing rain

soaks into my parched skin and

flushes out all grief.

2. Narrow, stone-walled streets,

palace, church and square resound

with strains of Mahler.

3. My new laptop lives –

it whispers, groans and purrs and

winks its crimson eyes.

From my collection “From There to Here” which I will publish on Amazon Kindle before the end of the year.

“ALMOST WHOLE” a poem about love and loss.

The punch is spiked with glory

My senses leaping and alive

For tonight to listen is enough

And through the music of the music

Runs an old familiar voice

A thread of scarlet joy, moving

In my blood, weaving through my heart

And lungs and lights, pulling tighter

Ever tighter ‘til I scarcely breathe

Caught like a bunch of doe-eyed pansies

My eyes are dark and wild with wonder

At such intensity of being

That I must weep for being almost whole.

amazon.com/author/elizabethmerry