the lines of telegraph wires above the skeleton's sandstone
the swelling clouds behind the hills
the pupils clicking into position. oblique exposure of the horizon

the coolness of the ceramics on the upper side of the fingers, the pressure
of tiny hairs against the napkin rings, the perspective
of the memories stacked up on top of one another

the dullish angle of the steps, the shadowy notch
of a staircase leading downwards, spanned by grey wire
which strikes out the roofs, the narrowing verandas as well

the spatter of cleaning water on the rifts in the tar
the ivy's rusty colouration, the coarse sugar-cubes
on the metal skins of the frigate in the harbour, plate upon plate

i fill with images for the future, fill and fill
the crescent of the ocean broken out of the picture, the lime
in the finger-grooves, the sand and this sky that's turned blue

translated by translated by Richard Dove