[for Ko Un]
You were thrown from a bridge
left to drown
in what remains of the drought-
stricken river.
Today I find your body
caked in mud
unaware of the violent days ahead:
the tens
hundreds, no thousands of beatings
that reduce
everything we know to sand.
***
[This is another poem I wrote during my weekend in Blackall… it is a hard land, and the people working it are currently doing it very tough. These are the words I found to try and tell a little of their story.]
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It was a weekend of strange rivers… Will have to share the poem I read at SP on the weekend with you some time Graham.
This is beautifully written. Such simple, brutal imagery. Powerful, powerful, powerful…
dang…some tough imagery here..the body caked in mud..the beating to sand..wonderful intensity graham
The lines in the poem are strong and sharp…like how I envision the land they are attempting to work…excellent write.
Brilliant poem Graham – absolutely love it! A timeless quality to it.
I’ve seen the ravaged land, GN and am heading back out to Barcy in July. You’ve taken no prisoners with this piece. Merciless and powerful.
Strong G. Good to have you travelling 😉
Love it G. The simplicity, and space leaves me pondering the vast spances of time.