Peter Richards




 

from Helsinki

 

The evidence against people not being tinged

is overwhelming like a pool tingeing under a gale

or a bride feeling tinge just choosing her color

I was obviously brushing against her a sand

dune indication yielding a lace of feeding flowers

with their full gale movements sizing my body

I sometimes arrive inside exchanging heat rations

I’m a female captain with round scented points

I won’t darken inside I’m helping them study

I’m part of a long orange line feeding the center

I’m building the wall up with eggs some eggs

won’t darken inside yes love I can hear you

making percussive ground clicking noises you’re alive

you’re an ice sheet in the wind you carry hoses

sediments and just a tinge some headland mulberry

ices and sixty days in some kingdoms even more

carry me carry me in your mouth like the others

I’m not a cloudy season pinching fourteen eggs

at a time nor the cold waves from three devilish

springs but the dutiful red husks before I was born


 





© 2008 Electronic Poetry Review