The murmur of my father and mother
in their bedroom down the passage
her soft, private laugh.
On a long train journey
a child runs unbound down the aisle
speaking and running, both together.
An uncoiled string, she writhes
on being brought back by her mother.
She closes her eyes and holds two fingers
over her ears saying aaah, mmm.
The smile fades from her face as she feels
her tongue trill in the box of the skull.
The velvet quiver of the tongue tacked
to the lungs and the hard bone
of the sternum,
that cuttle bone,
divide between the poles of the self,
breath that is now sound
and flashing light behind the eyes,
she no longer keeping out the world
but meeting its sudden music inside.
SENTINEL POETRY (ONLINE) #42
The International Journal of Poetry & Graphics...since 2002
MAY 2006 ISSN 1479-425X Editor: Amatoritsero Ede