Sunday, July 21, 2013

Robyn Sarah: "Burning the Journals"

The past is useless
to me now:
an old suitcase
with mould in the lining,
heavy even when empty— 

heavy empty,
like the bronze bell
of the Russian church,
in the grass;

so I shall have to go
on from here with less
to bank on. My peeled eye.
The way things
sing in the sun

"Burning the Journals" by Robyn Sarah, from The Touchstone: Poems New & Selected (Anansi, 1992). Copyright Robyn Sarah, reprinted with permission.

Photography credit: "The Christ Church Cathedral bell lies broken by the February quake," by Don Scott (originally color).


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