Ian Nicholas McDowell - Ephemera

Ian Nicholas McDowell - Ephemera

Ephemera is what we are, br from our tea chest high arrival br over the stumbling streets br to our slow blanching in this sunlit window. br br Flies try our surfaces with their sticky feet, br dust quilts our blind eyes br until the shopkeeper's feather flick br opens them again br to the equable shouldering of our fellows. br br Why don't they pick us out, br those who maunder past, br or even stop, grow bug-eyed, br butt their hands against the glass br leaving moon marks? br br We are shinier, or rarer, br less breakable, more limited br as an edition; with some trick br or shape, or colour; br memories of childhood visits, br toffees rolled in the mouth, br an old back kitchen kettle singing. br br No, the hours go. br Trees in Lincoln's Inn Fields dress br and undress, fog chokes br and unchokes bridges, br ships whisper rust, br br and here I stand br in this September evening, br an old curiosity in the making, br peering through this shop mesh br to where these bibelots br who have outlived their lovers br wait, and wait.


User: PoemHunter.com

Views: 4

Uploaded: 2014-11-04

Duration: 01:32

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