Birches
Birches stir the imagination.
They peel and reveal
Rough black patches
And strips, deconstructed
Bar codes and inky
Clawmarks. Slim-trunked,
Skin pale as bone,
These birches lean out
From the ground.
They are vulnerable
And weird, and so we
Make them into other
Forms: kneeling girls
With hair flung forward,
Ladders, knobby horse legs.
They bend and stretch
Under the weight of our vision,
Intangible, strong as a breeze.
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Whenever I visit your site I always discover a new word that I remember I categorically love. "intangible" is the one this time. what a delicious word that is, how it bounces on the tongue...
ReplyDeleteI am FINALLY sending you a project-email by the way... that is if you'll have it of course...
thea.
xx