inviting Angela Costi
fragments revised from ‘the village is a garden’ at
Mesana
Paphos District,
Cyprus
and I have something to tell you
which not even I must hear
–
Yiannis Ritsos
1
such an honest
morning
sun has washed
white
what is that tiny
bird swings through
under vines in a
courtyard glimpse?
it's an all-day
rooster
proclaims from tin
shade
tiny lizards
to whom I've had
no formal introduction
are faster than
call their
colour
a breathless
hill's
good for the heart
I go a little way on
at the edge of the
village
come to an oak
much older than me
that's where I'll
seek advice
2
the olive
abundance,
peace and glory
what lives in the
olive
is just this
season
a certain flit of
feather, fur
say opportunity
wide boll of gnarl
our ages blur
flutter adjustment
in the branches
what lives in the
olive
a thirst set aside
light throws
itself at us
the old ones
writhe themselves around
all cleft
and strong with
standing
like a dare to
wait
and taste the
fruit
it's bitter now
but you can have
my patience
let the blade be
with the branch
let the shape be
minded
sing
and leaf
is song too
a hill lives in
the olive gnarl
whole skies have
gathered
rain fell
let this bark be
shot of sun
twig fall to
winter fire of night
the tree so many
lives
it's accident and
cause we're here
a wrestle with itself
frozen yoga seems
because we can't
see time
tree's made of
bend with the
breeze
as often laden
think calmly as
the tree
3
a picture of
the stillness
a gnarl of stump
could be alive
points its all
directions
saw my first snake
today
dusty black yay
long
add this to the
list
of those on the
way
flies to me
gathered
as movement as
sweat
do I deny them
hope?
surely I will lie
down to die?
a breeze lives in
the shade
flutter and the
tree takes off
I walk like a
ghost through this knowledge
nobody knows I am
here
4
rising
to all occasions
pigeons explode
from an ancient tree
this happens now
and then
there
are other days
over
the skysill
other
worlds
deep
in the heart
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