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Posts Tagged ‘Gill McEvoy’

Rain Dancers

June 26, 2008 2 comments

Nothing in the taps but a choke of air,
cracks opening in our skin,
the pond shrunk to a dull bull’s-eye
in a basin of mud, grass
shrivelled to bones and string.

In the night,
thrumming on slate, pooling in gaps,
hissing in gutters, slapping on stone,
whooshing down drains,
at last it comes.

As if a master-switch were thrown
the lights go on,
heads bob at panes like dark balloons,

then people flood into the streets
to splash and stamp and roll
in wet.

On the pavements
piles of night-clothes

rise

like river banks.

by Gill McEvoy

Read by Dave Bonta — Download the MP3

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Categories: Water Tags:

The A55 to North Wales

September 17, 2007 3 comments

To you it was a road, a thin red line
in an atlas, junctions to be noted,
their numbers told.

My knees were spread with maps,
my eyes were counting exits.
But my mind was charting

startling openings of sea,
mountain shoulders shrugging off
great clouds of white, silvered

by the western light,
and in their thousands, ox-eye daisies,
in drifts like snow on verges,

spikes of purple orchid sudden
in between. And I have learned to

recognise terrain by living things,
steer by the seasons and the light.

by Gill McEvoy

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Categories: Making Sense Tags: