There are striations in my heart, so deep, a lizard could lie there, unseen, and wait for tomorrow’s sun. Timeless, the worm at the apple’s core waiting for its world to end. Seculae seculorum: the centuries rushing headlong. Matins: wide-eyed this owl hooting in the face of day. Somewhere, I remember a table spread for two. Breakfast. An open door. “Where are you going, dear?” Something bright has fled the world. The sun unfurls shadows. The blood whirls stars around the body. “It has gone.” she said. “The magic. I no longer tremble at your touch.” The silver birch wades at dawn’s bright edge. Somewhere, tight lips, a blaze of anger, a challenge spat in the wind’s taut face. High-pitched the rabbit’s grief in its silver snare. The midnight moon deep in a trance. If only I could kick away this death’s head, this sow’s bladder, this full moon drifting high in a cloudless sky.
Comment: This is the prose version, from Fundy Lines (2002). The prose version was based on an extract from a longer poem that first appeared in Though Lovers Be Lost (2000). Though Lovers Be Lost is also available on Amazon and Kindle.
rogermoorepoet 
That’s wonderful! Let me know when it’s available!
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Dw i wedi eisiau dysgu siarad caymraeg yn y pryfysgol digitol Duolingo gyda athroes cymraeg. Dw i nawr siarad cymraeg ond ddim dda iawn eto. I coud send you an e-text of the short version?
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Amazing effort with the Welsh, I am impressed and also shamed! What is an e-text?
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The e-text to which I refer is an e-mail attachment containing the text file. Easy to set up and easy to send. I have been laid low for about a month (pinched nerve in back / hip) and have abandoned most computer work. I’ll restart the Welsh fairly soon. Best.
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Get well soon! Also laid up with broken foot and a sprained ankle.
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I am off to he chiro again today. It’s been nearly a month, but I am getting better. Thanks for the good wishes.
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And look after yourself, too. Foot and ankle, eh? That’s a nice duet!
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Hi Roger, just wow! You had me at the amazing first line but this is impressionistic, shamanistic and immediate all at once. Whew!
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Diolch yn fawr, Polly. It’s one of my favorite pieces. I have reworked it a couple of times in both poetry and prose. It sill stands, either way. I have just written a book about my childhood in Swansea and I am writing a second one also of childhood memories: Ar an y mor.
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