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Alistair Bain Poem
Nana’s a safe harbour for a child,
a rattling baby taking water
at the christening font, and fluid
in the lungs. Little’s of consequence
for you, ceremony or theology, or
clan gathering. We pilfer your
routine deftly as rogue genes have
jellied your muscle. But held above
the waterline you’re safe now, if
perplexed to tears, the agony of taking
passage from death to life not quite
surpassing navigation of more hostile currents.
Copyright © Alistair Bain | Year Posted 2011
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Details |
Alistair Bain Poem
one day working
the frets
i discovered the song
and I played
it over and over
hoping she would
hear it in her distant
land where she
had sea and beach
long bush tracks
and a bike for
the lake’s perimeter
i dream that she
will hear it
still on an evening
sky and a darkly
hidden verandah
breathing my fingers’
lilting on my buzzing
sunburst axe and
love’s discordant harmony
Copyright © Alistair Bain | Year Posted 2011
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