Come back

No training today ...

... I've quite a back-collection of these Poetry Review volumes - this one is a special from 1994, and here's a short poem from Lavinia Greenlaw that's within:


Islands

This passion for iron,
their metal from heaven,
the heaviest element
created by fusion
at the heart of a star
which then collapses,
folding and folding

till the core explodes
to scatter and settle
within the triangle
of past, present, future
- all possible worlds.
You dream of islands.
I give you a map
of the Pacific Ocean.
Go there. Come back.

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