Page 49 - Poems

in frames of early morning sun.
The stripling’s solitary stance aloof

and self-absorbed, pre-emptive,
precocious boy who knows too well

soon metal will scorch,
fingers blister, wind burn

and sweat glue skin to skin
and so forgoes the camaraderie

of the compartment
and rides alone, apart,

and in the same direction.

*

What magic spirit glues them on?

*

Tableaux one after the other
but I will stay with just this one

with the fish-lady and her son—
I realise she’s not wife but mum

only when I see her agile fingers
mime step-back! in silent alarm

as the lad coolly courts harm
at the edge where he lingers

winding a length of cloth
into a circular pad which he will

place on his head with the skill
of one who knows that sloth

is a masque for in-between
train’s arrival and departure

a slowly-widening aperture
into which the next scene

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