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||Edwin Drood's Column
||26 April 2016
|This, the penultimate poem from Hugh Featherstone's A bird under water,|
could be described as the collection's title track.
Is this our element at last
the human race a printer’s space
and I, another movable type
destined to build a serious block
and squeeze my brass-edged, inky heart
with forty wooden fellows in a frame
waiting for our train to start?
And am I truly in love with her
or only with the words that shine
like diamonds when she moves her hair?
I free those diamonds from the mine
Could this be sophistry, a game
a dictionary addiction all the same
or the poetry of chance encounters
somewhere between certitude and wish
a bird underwater and above
a flashing, falling, aerial fish?
From Bird under water, a selection of poems by Hugh Featherstone
© Hugh Featherstone
Poems from this selection appear when the Drood's away.
The Bird under water homepage includes a foreword by Hugh Featherstone
and a linked list of the poems as they appear.
|Edwin Drood's Column, the blog by The Mysterious Edwin Drood,|
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