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Lament for an Illegal Immigrant

No moon, but fishermen

are used to that and the sea’s chanting,

the descant of the nets. The decks

silvered with sea verses,

the minims and trebles of fish

hushed into songbooks of ice.

 

Something didn’t sing, humped

in the net, thudding onto the deck.

Its ears heard no notes, its eyes blind

to the men standing by, its throat

choked with words

that no one would hear.

 

They let the sly octopus

sidle to the ship’s side, forgot to stop

the arch and leap of bream.

The sea moaned, the fish

slipped out of tune, the kittiwakes

hurled screeches like broken strings.

 

The men unfroze, thumped

what didn’t sing, what was lost for words,

over the hissing deck. Tipped that which

had no hope, had never had a hope,

back to the sea. No

word, no hymn, no prayer.

 

But the wrack in the nets wept. The sea

beat its fists on the boat. And the wind got up

and howled till dawn.

 

The Nuns’ Araucaria

 

Not at all the kind of tree you’d expect to find

In a monastery garden. It squears above the wall

Its giant fingers horning the heavens, effing

Up at the skies. And the nuns who moved in have

Left it there, yet chopped down the stammering mimosa,

The cherry whose blossom danced a swan lake

Over the boughs, the sacred yew by the gate with its

Scarlet berries we plucked and sucked and spat at

The monastery well. But a monkey puzzle?

 

Was it an abbot who had planted it, a symbol

Of life’s labyrinth or of evil’s intricacies? Did he intend it

To stand as a speechless sermon long after he’d died?

Is it a warning of purgatory’s trials or a statement

Of  the life we are confusedly living, snared, squittering

In Fate’s mesh, while the Dark Hunter, unmoved,

Looks on? Or does it symbolize nothing

At all, have no significance, is just a prelate’s whim,

A caprice to slip between the lines of the Rule?

 

From my window at night that tree cavorts

With the stars, tracing the Game of the Goose

Over the mooning sky. Soundless as shadows nuns

Slide under its boughs – who’s to tell if it grabs at their veils

Or pricks them on their silent way? Or do they –

For some penance or for a sly joy – clamber

Into its bristly branches, struggle out of their

Caught and cumbersome habits, and wriggle,

Naked and lithe as monkeys, up to the winking stars?

poems from Caduceus (Hedgehog Poetry Press september 2023)

Two poems published in Syncopation Literary Journal July 2023

https://syncopationliteraryjournal.files.wordpress.com/2023/06/g.-griffin-poems-proof.pdf

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