his.shirt  w r a p s  twice around her

and the marblefloor so cold
and her love     -backroom sleeping

                                                                       the crystalglasses hummmm
                                                                       a chirrup in the beams

weighty key
fleshwarm from his pocket      ~     [gentletouch giant, (remember) smile]

sunrises over sleeping smoke froiles, threems under the doors
barrels clONG B r o n g
and rummel

inhaling, she dreams of the sea,
scurrying harbourside bustle
hooks,   mewl-gulls and fishguts –                        such an ancient memory





7 Responses

  1. I really like how the sounds come through so strongly in your words.



  2. Beautiful. You do so much with so few words, sense of place and time and character all with such effortless grace, morning, yaaawwnn, waving as he stumbles past on his way home,

  3. It is absolutey brilliant this poem. All of the senses, all five, it is a five dimensional word picture the equal of Flemish, Dutch Master painting, absolutely transporting in a way which try as you might you will never be able to completely deconstruct. Ebby is an absolute original and my favourite poet, including all the books, because she is alive in our time and yet her work is perfectly timeless,

  4. How she flits like a butterfly and how our eyes flicker to keep up with her… wonderful!

  5. Beautiful piece.

  6. i luv the sea… your format is awesome…

  7. shhh thank you

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