Marbling grey skies, gosling down, lambs ears, silver birch seeds crinkling in my hand, orange peel, mmm
swans, long necks arching
upward rising their bodies
fluting wings of water
karenajoan
2017
upward rising their bodies
fluting wings of water
karenajoan
2017
Swan
I see your tender care
in the arc of your neck,
in the pool of your eyes.
I see how deep is trueness,
in the softness of your down.
I sense your warmth,
in the strength of your back.
I am safe and carried along.
karenajoan
2017
I see your tender care
in the arc of your neck,
in the pool of your eyes.
I see how deep is trueness,
in the softness of your down.
I sense your warmth,
in the strength of your back.
I am safe and carried along.
karenajoan
2017
,
My Nan
My Nan lives near the Arctic,
she sees white swans -
I see black swans, brave,
in ice-thawed water
travelling to Port Albert
from the Antarctic.
I imagine the white swans
fluffing their down, rising
from the snow, wings ready
only to stretch and honk,
waking me in this lumpy bed.
It is cold, it is morning, my
nose red, breathes on the window
in a quiet, weatherboard house
as I watch the swans pass by.
My Nan lives faraway,
'Write again soon ...' she says,
in her folded blue ink aerogramme
'my love' she writes.
I read her letter again,
My lumpy bed is lonely.
karenajoan
1980
My Nan
My Nan lives near the Arctic,
she sees white swans -
I see black swans, brave,
in ice-thawed water
travelling to Port Albert
from the Antarctic.
I imagine the white swans
fluffing their down, rising
from the snow, wings ready
only to stretch and honk,
waking me in this lumpy bed.
It is cold, it is morning, my
nose red, breathes on the window
in a quiet, weatherboard house
as I watch the swans pass by.
My Nan lives faraway,
'Write again soon ...' she says,
in her folded blue ink aerogramme
'my love' she writes.
I read her letter again,
My lumpy bed is lonely.
karenajoan
1980
