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Poetry > Individual Poems

for Noel Connor

A decade of collaborations:
But this is silence, stillness

so deep it moves
the eye.
An expectation of ocean.

These colours belong
somewhere. Indeterminate
outlines suggest a bird,

some fish, two sealsó
or just a west coast beach
picked out in stone.

You could tell our history
in stone: this a shawled head
back to the land

expects no one;
the weight of its grief
binding like roots.

A bruised sun lies low
hardly revealed
by the small wing of shadow.

I almost listen
for the dry throated cormorantó
and Iím back

walking a winter strand.
Everywhere the eye turns
is tormented:

loss a witching note
snaring the soul.

DRAWN TO WORDS: the title of an exhibition of paintings
by Noel Connor, mostly collaborations with poets.

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