Two poems by Winter 2006-07 Featured Poet Alison Eastley
BOUNDARY STONES #1
He slips in and out of windows
leaving finger prints
instead of writing "I’ve already left
and I’m not coming back. Don’t try
to contact me or complicate loss"
not that I’d dream his disappearing
act may well mean a perfect white
statue standing in a pristine hospital
garden is safer than the pebble
I found and kept when I was child.
Holding it in my hand feels the
same as a casual conversation.
I could talk to it for hours except the heat
rubs skin from my hand.
BOUNDARY STONES #2
Here is the meeting place
where another language languishes
from a time
before you or I were born.
The words cut deep into the stone
lashed by wind,
washed with rain and here
is the meeting place we can choose
to go backwards or forwards
while we live and die
like the message:
"remember to buy milk in the morning".
I want it with my muesli
so not to starve with you.