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

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Marlo Bester-Sproul

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The man on the moon

A miracle, they call it
The miracle of life:

At the gate, in the darkness
You waited for me,
Soft, prawn-like and curled
Only your fingers impatiently blinking
From their small, white fists.

All became vigilance,
The days dragging themselves slowly
Across the calendar,
All movement dwindling to the
Faint, clock-like kicking.

And only poetry seemed fitting
So I read to you...
For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you,
From the rocking chair, from the bow of my hips
I endlessly cradled you

Unaware that the fishy-black darkness
Was already beginning to swallow,
And bird-thin, already broken
Still secured to your single cord,
It would already be too late by the time they got to you.

Then, less than three months later,
On a broken, silver screen,
I watched the moon’s blue head emerge
Flickering, and somewhere deep beyond the stars
Science took it’s first, small step:

A miracle, they call it.

 

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