Monday 17 March 2014

"Drowning" from Allison McVety's Lighthouses (Smith Doorstop, 2014)


[as with Macalister’s boy and the fish
so grief has cut a square into our sides

the shock of our wounds
means it is all we can do
to stare from
our numbed eyes

there’s no flex left in our bodies
nor can the warm strobe of the keeper’s lamps
save us

and our dazzling skins
– now turquoise
– now lilac
– now gaudy with blood
– now lessening

in the fall from light

in the fall from light]

Allison McVety
Lighthouses (smith | doorstop, 2014)

Allison McVety's third collection, Lighthouses, is available directly from the publisher.

1 comment:

  1. Anonymous8:35 am

    A stunning poem. I love that it's in square brackets. It's immediately intimate in its assumptions that we know Macalister and know about the fish and then the word 'shock' really hit me. I really love the punctuation. Fantastic