Patricia Prime


how the old shed falls

in the frost-stained paddock

its pick-up sticks

every which way and white

       fissures through its body        



the light is ghostly

filled with mist

the lancewood

saws the air with stiff leaf swords

           poised at each tip a bead of water           




bundled in my arms

torch-blue flames

as my fingers twitch to play

                 with their arpeggio of colour                  



my talisman includes

a clay soldier from China,

finger-polished rosary beads,

 the wooden Buddha from Tibet,

             a medal blessed by the Pope           



I’m struggling to recall

that first winter of marriage

down the steep lane

trees outside our bedroom window

                                            covered with snow                                             




you think love is

love is

never quite

                                           like that                                          



it’s autumn here

where the lowering sun

swamps the blue

and the wind you feel

                   is the wind I share                    



let me be permitted

to plunge into glorious failure

with the speed of light

yet with the gentle slowness

of a falling cherry petal    


Patricia is co-editor of Kokako, reviews editor of Takahe and Stylus, and is assistant editor of Haibun Today.  She has interviewed various poets and editors and currently has poems appearing in the World Poetry Anthology 2010 (Mongolia).