Friday poem: 'Fireshower'
by Rachael Boast
Lying down on a bench by the bridge,
a moon in late Gemini hidden from view,
I think of you who I loved a moment ago
as handfuls of light thrown up in the sky
find the brief flower of their suspension.
They fall so much shorter
than those on-lookers of the upper air;
our old loves, our oarsmen, radiant
in their silence, too steady to take an insult,
too self-possessed to need us.
Lights from regal crescents, Brunel’s
ingenious shortcut to the woods
and rockets fired from the observatory roof
leave me cold – my eye’s on Jupiter, just visible
through the cloud: first you see me, now you don’t.
'Fireshower' is published in Rachael Boast's collection, Sidereal.
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