Bliss

cliff

One night I shall despise him but this night
he is the great white tame hawk
perched beating at my teeth.

He is the scimitar I carry trembling
down the cliff of my sleep.

One day I shall be ashamed.
I shall speak.

*

Rachel McAlpine

(Title is same as the title of a short story by Katherine Mansfield that inspired this poem.)

Stuff in a blog

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Let’s not pretend
that stuff in a blog
is poetry.

A blog is a diary
upside down, a silo
where notions wait
for processing
or better times.

Crammed tight
they twitch
in the dark.
They long to sprout
and see the light.

Let’s spill them out
and set them free.
At worst the birds
will feast.

– – –

Rachel McAlpine