Two Poems
Alice Oswald, 23 January 2003
“... Story of a Man last time a man was sealed in skin like an inspoken word sealed in it was mid-spring, most people arm in arm, most trees whispering and he could just make out the fluttering light it was warm, it was days you walk out without a coat and little rain showers dash across the carpark and he stood there, like a man on film, going on with his heartwork at last at last he could think clearly this is myself, he said, rubbing round all four sides of my breeze-block patience this is one or two flying strands of my eyes this is my heart’s halo’s prismatic subdivisions there were people bringing chairs to the fire-escapes, peering down ... ”