Thursday, 10 January 2013

Zanzotto: Embankments



Train gone the fennel stalks resume

quiet a wind-light scent aniseed



Stalk levels reach up steep inclines their hold

and force repeating each summertime



Edwardian stones impacted deep

surface below sleepers, mute tangible scatter



Or from acacia and peppercorn humus

amidst paper mulch and refuse



Little grasses spiky or downy

splurge green evidence



Where they cannot be picked

where they field flowers go



Ants from hideouts file through stems

slow some, large with food specks



Seed-headed fennel and ivy

and a tangle of purple passion flowers



In breeze silence, unattended but for

an old Italian man with secateurs



I sometimes think of what he might say

to so much profusion



On the vacant declines of Westgarth-Richmond

i.e. what might I say?



And here it comes the next one

passengers at windows blank with ipods



Steel wheels gently press down rails

the immemorial roar eleven seconds

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