Night colours, twist their loom
‘round the star white sheer.
All clean, all bright.
‘though eyes are set benighted.
Walking the room, divining for smiles
with those who shared in prayer
who sung a gentle starry hymn
their pale voices thin.
The cherry wood fall with a sense of steer
and the varnish sealed its dreaming grain.
The endurance of the body
is an innocent feign.
We thanked each one for their kind words
sink holes skipped in every line
stumbling with embraced goodbyes
as the breast doesn’t stop it’s giving
the ache of the womb
is the black of the ribbon.
WILDsound Festival 