touch
turn upon turn not getting there
ornamental lines
over rectangles
lines broader
than rivers’ flowing
through streams they’ve cut, bleeding in soil
lines harder
and more impermeable
than paths and tracks
sharing
a variety
of straightness; while lands mark up, or
dash about; somehow propelled,
impelled by misapprehensions
nature is ambulatory
I touch therefore
I live
St Ives
Harbour from The Malakoff
white right up in
the middle
of green
and the green’s on blue
poured
on it still
liquid
underneath
St
Ives, March 2002
[The Malakoff is a point high up above old St Ives
– where there is now a small bus station]
St Ives
Harbour
sun into a square
tries to circle
encircling the island
yellow green
sand
blue green water
St
Ives, April 2002
Poldhu
whole sea is in air, flying
ocean entirety
white glare
grey
gull-headed
hovering
rolling out
of darkness for
coast edge
an illusion,
all’s one to water,
what it can’t reach, land,
flooding its usual motion,
what it does
all times
trans posed
poised no panache
about to,
remember,
on rocks butterfly
rocking colour mass
at one remove
[Pol
dhu is Cornish / Kernewek for “dark water” or just “black
pool”
- and the name of a bay on the west of The Lizard peninsula]