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Poetry - 2002

Dark moon - a reading for Nicola Martin

Dark moon turn the tides gently, gently, away

turn mists, veils of ethereality

into substance

turn whispering vapours, translucent shadows

into structure

turn gas to liquid, liquids

into solid granite Granite

that stood the eons of age

turn hard rock, strata

into the stony architecture of Institutions

echoes in halls that

turn diverse delicate nature

into the fodder for obsessive collections

turn tides of collecting into undying specimens

washed up on the lonely dark beaches of museums

lying, labelled, but ever drying

Brittle in the meniscus of timeless envelopes

Moon turn the tides gently, gently, away

erode the rock the sands of classified information

into lost rivers of ocean time

turn a storm through forests which echo lost sounds

erode the bastions of the authoritarian classifying

erode the shell, hatch ghosts of creatures past from concretions of time

let them escape to the environs they once belonged

© Lloyd Godman