Out of Shot

November morning sunshine on my back
This bell-clear Sunday, elbows lodged strut-firm
On the unseasonably warm
Top bar of a gate, inspecting livestock,
Catching gleams of the distant Viking vik
Of Wicklow Bay; thinking scriptorium
Norse raids, night-dreads and that 'fierce warriors' poem

About storm on the Irish Sea - so no attack
In the small hours or next morning; thinking shock
Out of the blue or blackout, the staggered walk
Of a donkey on the TV news last night -
Loosed from a cart that had loosed five mortar shells
In the bazaar district, wandering out of shot
Lost to its owner, lost for its sunlit hills

Höfn

The three-tongued glacier has begun to melt.
What will we do, they ask, when boulder-milt
Comes wallowing across the delta flats

And the miles-deep shag ice makes its move?
I saw it, ridged and rock-set, from above,
Undead grey-gristed earth-pelt, aeon-scruff,

And feared its coldness that still seemed enough
To iceblock the plane window dimmed with breath,
Deepfreeze the seep of adamantine tilth

And every warm, mouthwatering word of mouth.

Thanks matteo.

I only wish my poetry was that good.

Matteo, if you ever get the chance, drive a car through the rural Kansas night, the darkest possible highway, while listening to Heaney reading his translation of Beowulf.

(Ok, it doesn't have to be Kansas. Just make sure it's dark and lonely and that there are shapes on the side of the road you can almost just name, but not quite. A ship would be best, of course, but then you'd be on some swinging cruise ducking a conga line and that's hardly the mood you want.)

Thanks for the new poems and for bringing that dim memory to mind.

Great links. I wish I could write a poem about today; it's so crisp and clear and so beautiful that you could actually cry. I don't know what to do with this day.

I guess it would be really stupid to spend it sitting in front of a computer, huh. So bye!

Thanks, matteo.
Thought I'd leave a pointer to the Mefi thread on Heaney.

drive a car through the rural Kansas night

I loof forward to it, melissa may, even if I am afraid In Cold Blood ruined that for me
but thanks for the suggestion, I've just bought the cd on Amazon


it's so crisp and clear and so beautiful that you could actually cry

a bell-clear Saturday, then

no, I look forward to it. but "to loof" sounds like a fun thing to do, too

to loof or not to loof?

i'll get to enjoy more of him when i wake

Today was the day that every other day aspires to be. I hope tomorrow is more of the same, but I guess I'm being greedy.