Thursday, November 1, 2018

APRILIA ZANK



APRILIA ZANK

LAST NIGHT IN BANGKOK

on the wet veranda
of the riverside hotel
colours playing a treacherous game
glimpses of eternity
in the patterns of moist wood

on the retina of the mind
images merge with rain,
rotate, trickle down
float on the skin of the river
this wide, murky river
silent, unrelenting
heavy with
vows, prayers, curses
feather of doves and vultures
shreds of memories

we are not new
we are not the centre of the universe
our words have been already said
our metaphors carry the echo
of past generations
our love,
our hate
are just ripples
in this wide, caliginous river







]HARVESTING

I shall dip these days
into the honey gold
of late September sun
then place them
in wooden cases
with apples, grapes,
memories

on weary winter days
when eyes turn mute
gazing at leaden skies
and the crows petrify
among seedless furrows
I shall dig these days out
warm my hands
on their roundness
drip their honey gold
onto the tip of my tongue
anoint my skin
with their balsamed zest







LEARNING FROM BIRDS

I'm learning from birds
to sense patterns of light
long before
night's shadows fade

I'm learning from birds
to search for shelter
amidst merciful twigs
when thunders approach

I'm learning from birds
to follow the call
of ageless ancestors
to head for shores
never fathomed before
and trust the stars
to guide me
to an everlasting return

APRILIA ZANK


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