the first steps are to acclimatise the eye       to look for

the hand-fashioned planes & edges       & distinguish them

from accidental fractures from slanting blows

of the plough       be prepared for disappointment

not every field will yield a crop of artefacts       not even

a single slim flint arrowhead to slip in your pocket       if it's

excitement & great discoveries & gold you're after you'd best

join indiana jones or lara croft or get a book on howard carter

the most you'll find here is a sharpened hand-axe that probably

once smashed someone's skull       wear stout shoes

megalithic

graves that were ancient even before teutons began

inflecting their verbs       nothing much to see in passing

just boulders dumped by scandinavian glaciers       but these

were passages to an afterlife       neolithic chieftains

newly powerful       in possession of livestock       stone axes

wives       buried with all their wealth & status intact

in a landscape that seems depleted now       soil skimmed off

axes in museums       megaliths ornamenting churchyards       is

this the hereafter they were in such awe of       I pick up three

acorns from a six hundred year old oak       drop them in my bag

agnostic

flying fish fore & aft & alongside       but she was hoping

for a sighting of dolphins       to let her believe

more abstruse stories       running from side to side

of ferries' decks       her eyes stringent       she reeled in

spray and meltemi       passing patmos the sea

was calmer but still no glimpse of those mythical

silk black backs       on her flight home she sat next to

someone who claimed he'd seen dolphins       he'd been

fishing he said & they came in frolicking round his boat

almost near enough to touch       simply there

a fortnight before full moon

the kitchen being the heart of things       she likes

to eat the loaf crusts       (but always asks if I mind)

tulips wilting       the glaze on the vase crazed

no more circumlocutions       circumventions       where

did I put my       placing too much       trusting in

blindly       is the hypotenuse always the quickest

such comfort in reducing everything to theorems

even distance       aldebaran is bright       there's mars

in the next room I lie awake       squaring up for

a favourable transit       incalculable conjunction

portrait of

allowing for the limning of a likeness       light's

evolution in the retina       the object       love

the desire for love       or its likeness       principles

of being       with this fall of the light       here

now       sequence this as you will       there's no

design       make it mean       the world you see

scored into the margins of the manuscript

woven into its illuminated capitals       sneaking in

details of a life beyond the text       mundane

complete       down to the necessary flaw

Copyright © Catherine Hales, 2008

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