Monday, May 27, 2013

POEM: "Daughters of Eve, Sons of Adam"

Daughters of Eve, Sons of Adam


Instruments are consulted
the charts are speaking to you again
of another calibration, another song.

In the bush of attractions you see
the almost legible words of love.
You won't get out of this world yet.

You were playing on the beach
when the sudden fright of the birds
started you running and yelling.

Afterwards there's no evidence
of your fear, no canoe-track
above the stars, black or white.


Marvellous. No one left to shout
or cry askance and no shoulders
to look over. No one here today.

No one looks like they’re coming
up anybody’s stairs bearing any gift.
Nothing now parted by hope, by fear.

No one is speaking for their absence.
No one is here. Fabulous examples
move around and lean away.

Likely to be no one tomorrow
or even a meanwhile. So lovely the
blank, the white noise. He. She. It. Them.

© 2012 Rob Schackne

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