Sport 12: Autumn 1994
Janet Charman
Janet Charman
a fishing voice
talked me
over the sill
into wet grass
i found the coin
moon
just within grasp
‘where’s the car?’
‘where’s the car?’ i asked
‘there is no car’ they said
there was the plain town
under our tired feet
treading down the nearly morning
till we came to the white wood hall
the white horse
stood on its hillside
browsing moonlight
close stars
out performed streetlights
sleeping parents
light years away