the headland remains

Here's some verse that I really like, from the Australian poet, Jennifer Harrison:


Headland

Locations change
as the sea rises and falls
but the headland remains
a stable form, a cleft tree
slowly felled
by an axe of water.

Each pebble falls
upon the rock-platform below
a field pitted with littorina
perriwinkles, Chinese hats.

The bombora cuts a white line
for three quarters of a mile offshore.
This may not be the place where the Hood went down

but the sun drowns
through clouds doused in shark's blood
and kerosene flame

and when the first star arrives
before the sun has gone and fishes of light
begin feeding from the moon's basket
it is the same sea beckons
the same salt bats from Karangamite caves.

And the wind which burns through me
as though my clothes are riggings
scutters my pores until I feel a salt
eat down to the bone to the spine

to the fishes they multiply
sting my eyes
sandy thoms.

There is a moon here
for every mood
a moth's white sail
a sky's purple moss.

Castaway, albino dragons
the waves have eyes
of mineral power

long stroking claws
stained with spices
blue and black theft.

A bird urge
wings outstretched.…

almost a lover
the precipice sings
of blindfold, step and flight.

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Jennifer Harrison (1955 - )

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