ARIANA DISCOVERS
-
Mike Jenkins (U.K.)
Name all the way
from ancient Persia,
yet I prefer to think
of silver,
not the money but
the colour.
Silvery glint in
eyes and smile.
Your slow-coming
teeth troubling
even as mine are
disintegrating.
I stoop to your
world
of the carpet’s
plain
and knees ache,
stiffen.
But you can grip
my hands
like a climber’s
rope
as you balance
upright.
I challenge you to
face
the chair’s sheer
cliff,
your steady,
straining noise
like a small bird
repeating
its call, not
because it’s lost
but wings not yet
formed.
There are no coins
to gather,
just shaking
shapes and sounds ;
a mirror’s shine,
yourself another.
Note: In Welsh ‘arian’ can
mean money and silver.
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