Was there ever any way This plump and comely assassin— Named for all knowing and unknowing—would not know how To meet all prying with a look both tender And intense, both Peaceful and implacable, merciful and savage—sad, Yes, but by no means sorry— Surprised but not unduly— Across the threshold of her forest lodge? … Continue reading
For Anne You are the dance I prayed for, my love, and I am the prayer That danced you free. I am the supper You earned, Beloved, dancing All of time down to its knees. You are The forest in my blood and the wildness In my woods, in my leaves. And … Continue reading
So why is it when I wake beside this Cornish sea, my tongue Is as tired as it only gets to be, lost in deep, Prolonged and riotous discourse with thee? My sleep Has been as eloquent, it seems, as the breeze that trafficked my window all night, As busy as the sea at her … Continue reading
Everyone forgets that Icarus also flew. —Jack Gilbert, “Failing and Flying” Like some nocturnal Icarus, I dream too close to heaven— I fly too close to morning— and I wake in pieces. And so I woke this Wednesday, a child disarmed in sleep and felled By the gravity of the ancient light he dawns in. … Continue reading
“Enemies— Part of a world Nobody seemed able to explain But that had to be Put up with.” —Seamus Heaney, “A Herbal” Continue reading
Mark Tredinnick is a celebrated poet, nature writer, writing teacher, and essayist. He lives and writes along the Wingecarribee River, southwest of Sydney, and he travels widely in Europe and America as a poet and teacher. The winner in 2011 of the Montreal Poetry Prize and in 2012 of the Cardiff Poetry Prize, Mark is … Continue reading
Poem and Dish 