Tuesday, April 9, 2013

Jo Dixon: Two poems

Nature Reserve

Asphalt smoothway hastens hybrid cycles
   and monoscoped twitchers                                       
past a dry brood of wellies                                              
   feathered in mud-splashed memories

Jo Dixon


(After Barbara Hepworth)

Bronze egg hatched with twine
outweighs panting arms edging
her out; she tilts on the tail lift.                                             
Salt rivulets perspire
down her silken shell until -                                                     
flanked by armoured glass,
she exhibits in white space.

But when Spring is lacy
with sunlight leaves,
fingertips reach to meet round
her back, feet follow her curved
breath and in the criss-cross
veins of her yolk eyes conceive                                                
amorous plume-stretches of teals,
the branchwork of foraging goldcrests,
and a marriage of grey herons spired
in their nest.

Jo Dixon

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