This poem is taken from PN Review 150, Volume 29 Number 4, March - April 2003.
Four PoemsThe Slate Ship
A spacious case
of temperate air
and this child's slate.
Six hundred years
lost from sight
in riverbed sludge,
then raised and perched
on a plastic pad.
In the mangled rig
and wonky mast
I imagine the frown
of the baffled artist.
In lightning slashes
dragged through it all,
I see the scorn
...
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