LOFT
( for Hilary)
Sometimes in the night i stir,rain
has been falling and darker than
evening is the sound of overspilling
water from the roof,two pairs of
jeans move slightly with a breeze
from the window.traffic.in the button
hole of my coat the yellow of a daisy.
thunder.lightning is a bruise of pale
havoc around my eye's coast,and my arm,or
hers, draws in under a blanket from
the first morning of winter
The arm drawing in under a blanket is a fantastic image. You've captured a moment here. I love that you punctuate it with sounds...traffic...thunder... Great piece, Rall!
ReplyDeleteYes it is a good poem but alas not one of mine!
ReplyDeleteWritten by Australian poet Michael Dransfield who died of a heroin overdose in 1973.
The line that Brenda picked is a good one. We all know the comfortable feeling that produces!
ReplyDeleteA fabulous line: lightning is a bruise of pale
ReplyDeletehavoc around my eye's coast.