South
by Landeg White
Cemar 1999
Signed copies available here.
Price: €7.99
And here he’s again, the Father
of Winds. Our matted pines
heave like an ocean, the almond trees
fuss prettily, ancient olives
munch and fumble, blue gums
bunch their shadow-boxing fists,
while up on the skyline, royal palms
semaphore with their ostrich feathers
to clouds scudding like clippers
on the Azores run. The Atlantic’s
in every blast, and how
the swallows pinion it, cruising
under our block’s cliff, accelerating
in the domestic air, hitting
the corner, and
FLAWEWEWEWEWE they are puffballs, ounces
of cartilage, sheer as silk to spattering
on the tessellated pavements,
feathering at the last split-
second in a teetering
pole-vault, swooping, skimming
the perfected charcoal of their shadows.
I watch them
trying on wings. I watch them
readying for the dangerous currents south.