Water/ Tiger
(for Gillian Allnutt)
By a strange effect
the rocks appear
to be voyaging
slowly upstream.
You know how it is when a certain woman’s
likeness lodges in your mind: you see her gestures
everywhere you look. Aware of power
you are wary. Each could harm the other.
Because you see that face and posture overlying
all you look at, like the goddess of the place,
the sound of water dropping on the rocks
seems a heavy disapproving hiss.
Thinking the river would be like a tiger -
once in its cold grip I’d be lost,
clawed down - I keep clear.
Page(s) 31
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