Winter leaves a land
of still anticipation,
bathed in orange light.
Biscuits, coffee, nestled in
his ship – a cutter perched on rusty
barrels, small before the sun.
A nearby nest of lanes – the garden
done, she heads to yellow flames, as coldness comes,
and cuts, and the colours merge to grey.
And as they sink within the
night, I think of them, the single house,
the trees and whispering sea.
When I return, the
smiles will be warm, and I will
find a part of me.
Earth’s a ship, softly
carving through the icy sea,
Monster berg ahead.
Slam the rudders to the side,
onward still the hulk will glide, and soon
the futile, dreadful struggle.
We join the sparkling
lights that dance upon the sea,
slowly slipping down.
‘Berg’ is, of course, a poem in its own right.
However, it is also based upon, and serves as a study for, a larger poem I am in the process of writing, which is currently unnamed but will be on the general theme of climate change.
Many phrases, that are currently similar in the larger poem, may or may not survive depending how that poem evolves.
I quite like the idea of extracting fragments of a poem under construction, and reworking them into a new shorter poem in its own right, which also serves as a study, and the ‘Haiku’ or ‘Big Triku’ forms are ideal for that.
If this works, I may continue to use this as a technique, and add a quick note beneath any such small poems to indicate that they are also a study for a larger poem in progress.