Two Poems
Rent from DeepDyve- Two Poems
visitor
Each morning the neighbour fastens his tiebefore driving off, and from your bedyou see gates swinging in steplike that pendant of yours, now culledfrom vantage and invisiblein its hollow, mahogany drawer. Lightgathers at the window’s edge, too earlyfor letting itself in, and the newsarrives by phone, circling like crows, alwaysa nuisance, news freshly perchedin twin sanctums of your ears, youreyes trespassing on the neighbour’s yard.The father of your children is dead, it sayssome ten minutes ago, when curtains still guardand you have not risen. A windripples through trees, maybe it is finding its wayamong distractions, a voice you hear butcannot see. By the fence, dew on eager leavesripening as it disappears, a trademade necessary by those too long in love, or whatmakes love vulnerable, this neck of skin, thisaching after hiding places—your pendantunclasped, pushed away, or letgo, heard not seen. [End Page 25]
acquaintance
Sometimes, when the earth prepares for rain, I thinkof having a child. Like meit shall not know, gathering life at another’s expenseas a cloud from lake, how cells become matter, howgenerously it lowers into being. And on nightswhen the weight of achievement bearsdown on its furs and wires, the cordlike a ladder tucked away to keepfrom tripping, it may recognise whoseeks behind grace, patient ploughersifting a harvest of arteries. No prize onearth will be equal to dust. Turning,its soil is renewed, bone panelled like oakand pliant walnut, seconds before birthhe holds it, in love’s toothed harrows, and runs. [End Page 26]
Jerrold Yam is a poet whose books include Scattered Vertebrae and Chasing Curtained Suns. He has been awarded poetry prizes by the British Council and National University of Singapore. He is a law undergraduate at University College London.
