Redux September 2011 – Night Dance



Haunted, he wears his ghost lightly.

Woven on phantom air

the dream descends like spent ashes.


Singing, with pointed sticks

he marks the wing of the lightning,

 as only a father might do.


Entangled in ghost tossed clouds

he follows his fractured dreaming

like a mother’s goodbye.


Haunted and enchanted,

he summons the cast of the moon,

the wash and cry of the sea.


The borders of sleep are burning.



Poem and pastel drawing by Clinock


sailing now

sailing now

so close to your shore.


when first the chart was drawn

I don’t remember seeing

these rocks and shallows

between my battered boat

and you.


then it was

a fair wind on the sea.

gulls and mermaids danced for me

as I set sail

and nothing blocked

my breezy passage

to your beach.



within reach,

I am scuppered.


throw a rope

or wade out amongst

these salty teeth,

take my prow,

guide me home.


photo and poem by clinock.