Thursday 18 February 2021

Ivan Malinowski (1926-89): 'Rain'



A landscape alive with invisible lines

A cloud obscures your afternoon


Who is moving out there? Who is it smiling

In an alien realm of sloe and silver?


Behind the sky's great sail-sheets the same light

And you know what that signifies


This heart-throbbing that is carried to you

Over expanses heavy with salt, it is the boats


The ray from the eaves finds its curve

The apple fleshes out its form in the rain, calmly


You are all that is missing

Insubvertible images, imperturbable repetitions


Forget it: now it grows lighter

And this scent of clover


The larks are rising like stones

The lovers have reached the sea.

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