Saturday, February 20, 2016

John Swain- A Poem


From the Hull

Clematis hanging
in the sea rain
with the winter gannet 
tilting immense
above the grey breaks.

My grandfather calls
from a wooden hull
with the pitching waters
in his throat of storm
and then the blue
a calm and still,
the line and mast 
my cross and gallows.

Scent of the beach
on the back of my hands
as I swim the dig
of cold bones the ocean
flow of a progeny.


John Swain lives in Louisville, Kentucky. Least Bittern Books published his second collection, Under the Mountain Born.
 
 

3 comments:

  1. Images proliferate in discriminating language of conviction blowing us away. Congrats!

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