The Crack
There is a crack in the pavement
reaching tendrils like trees
into the sky.
I stepped on the wrong concrete slab,
once,
whole days ago
now & before me the shuddering
bird flies into crack
in the horizon
aeroplane snaps into crack
in sky
nouns in crack slither
(fall back saying sorry)
then adjectives & verbs &
(sorry sorry sorry)
ephemera II
Now you have left all I have is
a bookmark from the place you buy
your books. I feel sick with jealousy:
that there are shops, out there,
with you in them, running your fingers
down their spines, making them
tremble. I let it mark my place &
guide me to where you are: not here
but in the world, not this page
but another. Under no covers but your own.
________________
Alice Wickenden is a PhD student and poet. She tries to live her life by Robert Hass's line:
'maybe you should write a poem about grace'. Her cat is called Cordelia; it's a test to see
whether you think of Buffy, Brideshead Revisited, or King Lear.
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