Unrecallable Now

Unrecallable Now

(after Roddy Lumsden)



Since you ask, this was how I stayed awake.

I imagined a stand of trees

growing tall, white trunks

curling like ribbons

up to the polished shell of our sky.


Better than that, I was a door

in the sand opening into pipeworks of earth.

Did I mention that when shadows

of fish darted past, I held on,

till they slipped through my fingers?


But mostly I thought of those two:

a couple of crofts losing heat

in a darkening evening. How one

faced out to the lough, and the other,

the town, over acres of fields.


They must, as we must, have the sting

of sleet; a mad experiment

on the roofs, pinging rockpools,

cattle;  biting the faces of chancers

on  the high road from the pub.


I thought of those two; then ribbons

of fish brushing my hands; trees gaining heat;

a light in a window, as eloquent

as Venus. The witchery of sleet. Rain

curled up in the pale shell of sleep.








2 Comments Add yours

  1. Wow, the images in this are so wonderful, you’re really steaming with the poem a day thing! LXX

  2. pamthompsonpoetry says:

    ..steaming..dunno…but thanks, Lyds.Mr Lumsden’s ‘model’ helped.

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