Thursday, February 2, 2017

ALICE OSWALD ~









SZ



good morning to you, first faint breeze of unrest

no louder than the sound of the ear unzipping,

late-comer, mere punctuation between seasons

whom the Chinese call

Sz



forgive me, small-mouth,

I heard you criticize the earth

and stepped outside to see the fields ruffle your cloth,

but you were moving on:

monotonous

vindictive

dust-bearing

scrupulous

one of the many mass-produced particles of time

by whom the fruit has small frost-marks

and their hearts are already eroded and I

too



if you think, leaf-thief,

if you think I care

about your soft-spoken

head-in-the-clouds

seizure of another and yet another and yet another hour



then hear me, Sz, 

you are so bodiless, so barely there

that I can only see you through starlings

whom you try this way and that like an uncomfortable coat

and then abandon


———————————

Alice Oswald
Falling Awake
Norton 2016



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