Peter Gilmour
Negotiations
I’m minded to try to introduce
One part of myself to another,
Whether a baser to a higher
Or quite equal parts to each other,
I don’t know. Grant me leave anyway
To attempt it. On the boundaries
Of my being, where the world begins,
Too many wolves prowl, too many hawks
Hover. Geologically speaking,
There are rift faults everywhere, fractures,
Zone to zone tensions unkindly willed.
My current wife says I don’t add up:
I say she doesn’t understand me,
That every jungle makes sense in time,
And, to honour myself, quote from books,
Gesturing grandly from north to south,
Those impossibly shifting features
I know so well, the guttering springs
And pitted highways, uncertain stars
Hardly visible from the city
I had thought was the very centre
Soul of a definite commonwealth.
Page(s) 40
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