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Coltishall River

by Michael Mackmin


In her black swimsuit she stands in the boat,
her feet holding the floor of the boat;
she is smiling, she is talking to someone, her hair
(fair, golden, some pale colour) is
beginning to push loose from the pins:
I am watching from the car window
this is some film I think,
the green rushes, the black of the boat, the
white of her knees, her skin, the black swimsuit,
the blue sky, and then
I have driven past.

It is not the she or I this
moment in a day, or me desiring: (what I desire,
a kiss, to be not
looking from the car window imagining more
imagining love). It is, as the saying is,
the end of a perfect day, day on the river; and it is
the sudden illumination, possible
creation of an idea of God - love
imaginable beyond this love, beginning
to push loose from the black swimsuit,
not doing so
eternally standing holding the floor of the boat,
and then
I have driven past.

(This poem appears by kind permission of the author and Happenstance Press.)
 

 
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