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Poem of the Day


Karen Press

Without words or plans I was arriving
led by the surf, the days, the small streets and balconies,
worms and beetles came to fetch me,
by the waters of my homeless years I lay down gratefully,
ocean salts drifted in over my lips,
my eyelashes left like yachts on a further journey

I lay down, settling
so deep down, crumbling like bread
or the source of roses, honey, eggs

One by one my cells set out through tiny mouths,
atoms I knew moved along twigs, perched
on the tip of a thorn over some bird's wing feathers,
close enough to smell its arrival

Curiously my genes made proposals:
now the dune grass sings in a familiar voice,
a bed of succulents has grown pale and thoughtful,
the parapet of a building flicks its hair in the sun

All the while I lie here inside the seasons
watching the endless generosity of my bones,
mornings and planets keep coming to fetch me
Taken from 'New Poetries II'...
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