PN Review Print and Online Poetry Magazine
Most Read... Rebecca WattsThe Cult of the Noble Amateur
(PN Review 239)
Mark FordLetters And So It Goes
Letters from Young Mr Grace
(aka John Ashbery)

(PN Review 239)
Kei Millerthe Fat Black Woman
In Praise of the Fat Black Woman & Volume

(PN Review 241)
Henry Kingon Toby Martinez de las Rivas
(PN Review 244)
Eavan BolandA Lyric Voice at Bay
(PN Review 121)
Vahni CapildeoOn Judging Prizes, & Reading More than Six Really Good Books
(PN Review 237)
Next Issue John McAuliffe poems and conversation Charles Dobzynski translated by Marilyn Hacker Maya C. Popa in conversation with Caroline Bird Richard Gwyn With Lowry in Cuernavaca Jane Draycott Four Poems
Poems Articles Interviews Reports Reviews Contributors
PNR 250 Poetry Archive Banner
Monthly Carcanet Books
PN Review Blog

This poem is taken from PN Review 187, Volume 35 Number 5, May - June 2009.

Three Poems Togara Muzanenhamo
Cirrus

The time has come now when there’s nothing
To talk about, the horizon home terribly beautiful,
Even in old age your silence is bolted and strong.
Loose clothes mock your health with cold simplicity:
Your blouse sloped to the left, revealing a bare
Atoll of bone, a pair of loved shoes refuse to hold
Your feet - when you walk they suck your heels
As you drag your handbag, your leather tombstone.

So what of these mare’s tails, these cirrus whips
Above masses of cloud on fire in the western skies,
These ships waiting, the wisps of sirens playing
Backward from their burning decks, a terrible
Reversal - the lick-back of beautiful things.

Maize fields stand tall, and the dusk light blinds
The way home as though the matron of your ward
...


Searching, please wait... animated waiting image