Poem — C K Stead
The year was 69 (for Sam Sampson) Reading your poem and re-reading my reading I remembered the bar Colin painted for Maurice in the studio among trees below the house above the inlet at Arapito Road with a text that said because there is a constant flow of light we are born into a pure land – and the words had to curve with the bend of the bar and the flounder net down there among mangroves pulled round by the tide. The year was top-and-tail/ it was soixante-neuf when Tricky talked to Neil and Buzz on the moon and
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Tagged with: Issue 118
, Winter 2017
Posted in Poem