Tuesday, March 16, 2010

Moore Road

There are parallel worlds to this one. Driving,

I view Durban sun rising up the ridge from over the sea,

like a bright garment put on for the day,

and the air already liquid with heat.


Memory is a glittering fish

darting through the shallows.

When I was small, the world was magic, green,

impossibly full of light, longing.


The limit of adulthood lifts at times,

like scales found on the eyes of snakes,

transparent, allowing a vision

of all you thought you’d lost.


Like now, the viewed city gleaming, a rough pearl

asymmetrical, opalescent, what it is,

and not smoothed to fit a mould.

Set it on a silver ring, I’ll wear it.

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