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)
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)
Tim Parksin conversation with Natalia Ginzburg
(PN Review 49)
Next Issue Colm Toibin on Thom Gunn's Letters Allice Hiller and Sasha Dugdale in conversation David Herman on the life of Edward W. Said Jena Schmitt on Hope Mirrlees Brian Morton: Now the Trees
Poems Articles Interviews Reports Reviews Contributors
PNR 250 Poetry Archive Banner
PN Review New Issue

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