Cast

Long the light, and still

Hot. First reds, a yellowing  

    In leaf

Breeze on burnt grass

In corners the shadow of wings

*

Back

Snow and the fence there

Brittle somehow, locusts bare, crust 

    And stalk

Where the sun. Around us

The mountains’ blue-violet arms

And you, a flicker

        Against falling dark

We on the hillside wind-raw, and winter

*

Glimmern

These cold trees still

Naked and the morning

    Ice rain

But what are the names

Branches, a brushing

Against glass the pale light

Yesterdays back on the tongue

**

Alexander Booth lives and works in Rome, Italy. Poems and translations have recently appeared in halfcircle poetry journal, Poetry Salzburg Review and Poeti e Poesia; and are forthcoming in Italian Poetry Review and Dear, Sir. He intends to see his first book of poems accepted for publication in the next year and is currently seeking a publisher for his book-length manuscript of translations of the Italian poet, Sandro Penna. In addition he volunteers at the Non-Catholic Cemetery of Rome and keeps a (mostly) literary weblog on Rome in literature and Roman literature,Misera e stupenda città.

Archived at http://lit.konundrum.com/poetry/bootha_poems.php

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