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Poetry Library Southbank Centre - The Poetry Library housing the Arts Council Collection at Southbank Centre

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Simon Perchik

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Then nudging the cold engine block
he picks an apple, pleased
with its colour, with leaning
on a branch where his elbow
feels the small fire, then waits

for the lingering and almost daybreak
whose shadow would hold up the sun
half wax, half wing, half
the hood resting on one shoulder
– what did he lose under this visor

under the iron breastplate
the tower no longer on horseback
and the slow oil leak that carves
one drop from another

– every bolt already clamped
the way stalactites, stone by grieving stone
– every drop falling motionless
strikes another as rain once formed mountains
and trembling creeks still helpless
on the ground – he picks a wrench

by its size as if it had ripened
deep inside some cave where rain
had never stopped and he leans
half spilling over the dark wall

 

Page(s) 37

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