Patagonia

13 ottobre 2020 ore 19:35 segnala
I said perhaps Patagonia, and pictured
a peninsula, wide enough
for a couple of ladderback chairs
to wobble on at high tide. I thought

of us in breathless cold, facing
a horizon round as a coin, looped
in a catís cradle strung by gulls
from sea to sun. I planned to wait

till the waves had bored themselves
to sleep, till the last clinging barnacles,
growing worried in the hush, had
paddled off in tiny coracles, till

those restless birds, your actorís hands,
had dropped slack into your lap,
until youíd turned, at last, to me.
When I spoke of Patagonia, I meant

skies all empty aching blue. I meant
years. I meant all of them with you.


Kate Clanchy
55cddaac-6fd4-4f58-bb0e-490111ba4ec3
I said perhaps Patagonia, and pictured a peninsula, wide enough for a couple of ladderback chairs to wobble on at high tide. I thought of us in breathless cold, facing a horizon round as a coin, looped in a catís cradle strung by gulls from sea to sun. I planned to wait till the waves had bored...
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13/10/2020 19:35:49
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