Ghosting, just
I will walk through the rain
and my neck will get longer,
more heron-like, for you.
Like a flamingo pinkens
as it threads the sulpher-thick waters
of the Serantibo,
I will bathe for you,
and as the shedding maple
feels constricted
by the city’s pavement slabs
I will grow leaves and be patient for you,
or crab-walk with an extra appendage
through the streets below the flames
of an dying sky to carry your groceries,
and I will bid you be happy,
be heron, be crab and flamingo,
as the world turns in its thoughts
and is intimate with you.
Edward Barker studied medieval history at Oxford. He currently writes film scripts and manages a charity which runs a homeless centre in West London.
Page(s) 68
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