1. Articles
  2. Poetry
  3. (Page 12)

Passage through Icebergs

Poetry
  (Painted as Voyage to Labrador by Alfred Wallis, 1935-6) Pinnacles accompany steady Course, the odd dry-docked Whiteness with its…

The Selkie

Poetry
  Her face like a river-beaten stone on the day she rolled from the city of white walls, and pebbly…

Dawn

Featured Writing, Poetry
  On steel earth and dog heat The dogs wept. Not silence. Not even the silence of the cage After…

Matisse and the Dancer

Poetry
  Eternal female, colour constructed in yellow armchair, fully relaxed, contours voluptuous, pattern Islamic, gazing at silhouette leaves on a…

Passchendaele

Poetry
  Hard to imagine, as the coaches roll Along small unimportant roads through fens Blotted by bungalows and ugly sheds…

Ithaka

Poetry
  In Memory of Janice Fixter A transformation after Constantine Cavafy As you set out for Ithaka pray that your…

Garments

Poetry
  From a prose poem by C. P. Cavafy In an old trunk or in an ebony chest I put…

In the Cinema Lobby

Poetry
1. I was standing in the lobby of my mind on the tiled floor beneath the colonnade, the marble, the…

Chemin de Fer

Poetry
Casinos from Kowloon to Baden-Baden Serve our breakfast on a silver griddle – We who prop by night the gaming…

Green Wine

Poetry
He tempts her with Portugal in spring – I can’t, she says, not having stayed before in a hotel with…

Keeping Time

Poetry
There’s an edgy scent of winter in the air, of chrysanthemums, azaleas, wood-smoke, frost. Music flows through the drawing-room and…

Valleys

Poetry
The grass whimpers For me, the new Weight of my womanhood Treading into its stalks. ‘She’s back,’ it murmurs. I…

Girlhood

Poetry
As a girl, I lost most of my time on the hillside. It fattened the hedgerows And got caught on…

Weddings

Poetry
We were there to sand floors and scrub tiles, preparing the house for the new bride, your sister gleaning some…

A Postcard from Ireland

Poetry
  ‘Picture-poem’, 1966 oil and collage on board 8’ x 4’ ‘Picture-poem’, 1966 oil and collage on board 8’ x…

Moonlit

Poetry
I open the back door, to peek out on the wild dark. I see a mouse’s mossy pelt, quivering through…

In Sant Joan Baptista

Poetry
  For Fernandito Our early morning chat on your cool terrace explained the little grunting noise you often make, as…

Formentera

Poetry
  For Anna Roy Among the island’s first visitors after the war, you landed, innocently, with two volumes of Lorca…

Hordes

Poetry
  A dozen raised cherry-pickers in a lit yard at dusk, in a circle: you might say, a concentration, a…
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