Tas in March
White on dark water, so stark
I leave my binoculars behind
and watch with bare red eyes
two swans, taut with sexuality,
stretching their necks
alternately side by side.
They are early: colour is
still to come to bone-dry rushes
and trees bank black strangling
their green. It is a hard wedding:
sharp brambles and ivy-covered
stumps hunch and hug;
sleet pokes the surface from
a blank neutrality, to come back
spitting with all its mouths.
Roused, the spread wings
beat their own storm towards
the north, wind against wind.
Somewhere in all this a small
heat is held, like the hope
of a cold man drowning.
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Tas in March by Edwin Brock )
- THE MIND OF POET, kashif khan
- Spiritually Bound, Michael McParland
- Sky is red, Aftab Alam
- Musings., Gangadharan nair Pulingat..
- TRUST, maharshi trivedi
- Alone in December, James Anthony Creamer
- Mind Albums, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- A Nerd's Way of Thinking, James Anthony Creamer
- Need, Akhtar Jawad
- A Poem for You, James Anthony Creamer
Poem of the Day
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
- Heather Burns
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(12 September 1907 – 3 September 1963)