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