born in the heat
by Jo Halliday
She sits there, alone, far-gazing
where sun sifts that earth of
brown where cattle never grazed, neither
men drove herds, nor ever anything but a bee.
The bee that came from afar, from no place
from the four hundred years to come;
a desert crossed, with knowledge forsaken
for water, the where unattainable,
she oscillates on her brown-grey wings, yellow body.
There on the hill, she sits, the first breath
of stones and sand, of quires and poetry,
eyes burning; as wind shakes her hair
only slightly, just a gentle flutter of the calico
a handkerchief before the race starts, or a red lip
whither embosses a kiss, in surety, in possession;
between the hum and the wise words, twang and silence
it is only the dialogue of civilisations: arrival,
a solitary palymra stands witness.
Posted on 07/07/2011
Copyright © 2022 Jo Halliday
|Member Comments on this Poem|
|Posted by Kris Mara on 04/06/15 at 11:52 PM|
vivid...inside and out...transports me, all the while feeling so familiar through your words...great to read you tonight...