David Bircumshaw

 

For Robin Hamilton


The squirrels in his beard were sleeping, he hoped.
The night was free of ghosts. Wild metrics roamed
Outside the fence, but surely a caesura, a tranquil
Resolution was here allowed. Red over white,
White over red, a delicate disturbance of syllables
Opened a rose in his hand, allegorical ladders
Climbed past his window, like late summer scents
Carrying sons of Plato. He thought of sharper
Forms, flints, granite, the clear waters of grain.
A dominie thought called him, a hard collar
Nabbing by the neb the dumbheid and stoshy.
Awa' ye bogles, spirits, mistwalkers, ghosts.
Nae archetypal squirrels, lost souls of quotes,
But a drey made still, and the dree told beware.



Morning Prynne


Language ah the pile-up
roots out the boxed-in matchday
made now in China. Granite slabs
are in short supply, etiolate echolalia,
observance at the doorstep,
deliveries

of common fauna pecking
orders unfulfilled. Granite echo
Grantham her unreturned
from Newton walled. Global
pinched at space economy
her speech assumes.
Palinora, aero,

unfound at airbase bounds,
high cheap at shop,
sheep corner sells at slant,
off-time, across a bare
baste rate exodus, drawn line.
Close shave, obeisance,
safefail, reversal, hymn me
more real.



Notes

In West Midlands speech, the sound of Prynne is naturally pronounced as in ‘pry’ rather than ‘prince’. Assonates with ‘time’.

The Blue Tit, Cyanistes caeruleus, until the decline of doorstep deliveries, was noted in Britain (from the 1960s on) for its trick of opening bottle tops.  From ‘Campylobacter Jejuni: a Bird-Watcher’s Guide to the Late Poems of Peter Reading’ – Hilda Roberts, Alconbury Press (undated)

Recent renovatory roadworks on Leicester’s Gallowtree Gate have been delayed by a shortage of granite from the mountainous Chinese province of Huang-ti.

‘Palinora’ – an ineluctable reference, possibly a personal name.




 


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