Beneath this cloud-spread sky you sing head high for some lost mate, or for the joy to thrive through storms, and glide through orchards ripe with apples, cherries, berries, pears and leaves all dappled with the shy sun’s rays…
Song Thrush, Normandy Lire l’article »
Don’t forget the dusky red garnet, the ephemeral flicker of yellow pyrite, the flash of silver as the water recedes…
Robin, as you sing your red breast swells
between the frosty branches in this wintry glow.
You cock your head and listen to the bells
Notre Dame de Paris Lire l’article »
They’re shooting pigeons up in the air
shooting wild boar berserk in the woods,
they sway in the corn with their rifles loaded
aim with the warm red wine in their veins
shoot their leader in the foot
shoot their neighbour on the shins
…
October : The Hunt Lire l’article »
(illustration by French artist Christine Chamson)
He came washed up, limbs wavering
shells caught in the net of his Sargasso hair
the glint of the sea lodged in his eye
the roar of its jubilance caged in his ear.
His mouth was a cavern of wo…
House of Shells Lire l’article »
He asked to be forgiven
clutched his head with worn-out fingers
clean white nails filed evenly
moon-shaped….
There was a little girl who wore oak leaves in her hair
red berries round her milk-white neck, and a crazy stare.
Her dress was made of lace which hung like mist around her feet
and round her wrists an amethyst as purple as her blood.
Her mot…
The Harvest Ball Lire l’article »
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