Five Poems

Lepus

Mist, asleep like poison gas
in the valleys underneath. But up here
clear skies, where the mind comes up
from the deep, lighter than air.

With a girl's fist for a head,
second-hand fur, kangaroo legs, a hare,
triggered out of the earth
in a triple-jump sprint, keeps up with the car.

The Stern

My heart went out to the Falkland's widow, screwed
by the Falkland's hero with medals and wounds, the bloke
whose cover was blown on the day he referred
to the back of the boat as 'the back of the boat'.

Portsmouth Harbour in '82, an afterthought.
...