Submission Guidelines

Friday, 18 July 2014

Christine Murray

#1


gold-bodied a beetle dives


into muck and dirt a silica
of glitter on his porch,

his wing.
 
there is no evidence of his home now
it is vanished,


small soil tabernacle
he carried in the sun.
 

#2

this is the point where colour comes in

a slap of blue/ the wooden baker's palette
hits glittering concrete

city of silica, its bedrock trembles a bit

glossy/ the blackbird’s sunbath/his beak
goldened almost/yellow
 

#3

  the crystal greys are almost invisible
they litter the paths where colour is

a blue blue bird is stone dead shocked
nesting season is vicious/ wind lifts


the blue.


wind minutely investigates the small
corpse and moves on


the blue against the grey
the crystal beneath


not the sun/not the moon exposes
the glittering
 

 #4

the nest

not met

unreached :
eggs

a mess

of opalesescent white
dark blood /in a forest of shell



#5
reds mostly:

a jewel
old oxblood lid

the hem of a

skirt needing

mending
a papered jar

with needles in,
some coins.





from 'the silences' (series)

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