WindWords
Heading upward, covered in wind, my hood snaps, sail-like,
rain like lightning, startling wildness from skies
nothing can be caught here, held or arrested
voice flings, words fly – let me speak slow as rock,
speak wind, hear hawthorn song, rowan song
hunkered between boulders like a sheep, floundering,
I listen to wind grinding itself against stone violins,
air flensing granite, whistling through its ribs
in a funnelling of dragon’s breath
stinging eyeballs, scouring hands, skittering feet –
digging in digging in
let me put my nose to the wind like the animal I am,
knowing this roar – metallic, oceanic – this spillage, this scree,
vast cloud-bodies hulking over my head
star-dust fell to earth, ignited plants –
stars suspended in gorse seek their sisters, singing their names –
Acconaenus Repotentic Whisphonatum
all things solid dissolving
drop by drop by drop
granite folding itself upon itself
like an animal loosened, de-boned,
pelts falling slowly into layers
water holing it open
wind, remorseless as a lover,
wearing away its skins
listen ….. the skies are dying
wind wants to wake us WAKE US
on the ragged skyline an angel is coming towards me
trailing its shreds and tatters, opening its wings,
opening its broken arms –
now vanishing
look – bleached white bone in grass –
quartz lodged in granite like flung teeth,
every rock has many mouths
so if I am dismembered what of it? What might you see?
Open socket, its eye of rain
we become as memory, fleeting
Hilary Kneale and Sue Proffitt