Entente Cordiale: An Ekphrastic Exchange (Part 1)
I dream of waking where neon
blooms, and nightsong is a siren
blare or the rattle of a tram.
I fear a life spent in a gloomy
house, surrounded by a broody
wood, tending a fickle orchard
and shady gardens without end.
I know forest paths like these,
and how well women come
to tread them. I don’t know
what bound me to you.
Lost in the dark I stood still,
said nothing. So forgive me,
as I set you free — of me.
Download the MP3 (reading by Anna)
Hung from a nail in the parching sun, a passion flower
clings and climbs around the post. Forget scripture,
though my sides and seams, once sealed with pitch,
crack and craze, take me, fill me with new wine.
Carry me over the hills and groves, to the summer pastures,
the uplands where once I sprang on rocks and grazed,
to remember, once more, nibbling twigs of myrtle and olive,
bitter and fragrant.
Drink from me there, and I’ll show you, from out of the wine,
dark joy, and bright sorrow, pride and falling from grace,
and pity, and the final emptying; a small kind of tragedy,
a sad drunk goat song.
Poem by Lucy, photograph by Anna, mutated by Lucy, with help from Anna
Download the MP3 (reading by Lucy)
Process notes will appear in Part 2.