Thursday, 29 October 2015

Matthew Loney in his New World

A new World it is.
A Slate, my self, washed clean.

My Journy, under-taken dazed, near forgot.
A Blessing, that, with
Part the 1st
A haze of roiling Waves &
Constant Unstediness &
Griping pain &
Part the 2nd
A Misery
By Carriage &
By Cart &
By my own nummed Feet.

Yet here at new Smyrna
One foot in Sea and one on Shore
I feel Awake again.

I look East.

Kilcloud a tiny Speck
Imagined in the distance
Thru the power of my Wishes
& yet not.

For Sophia.
For Sophia’s Shell
Is cradled by the Sand there
Dandled by the sea Creatures.
Selkies ring her Knell.

Another Slate to wash.

I read my Book.
I keep my Secret.

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