In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:

  • The Brink of Flight
  • Cally Conan-Davies (bio)

How One Might Approach the Ocean

—fore and aft Wendy Videlock

Naked, like the moonBroken, like the roadCrooked, like the starsDrowned, like the wickSilent and several-Minded, like the heronRestless and reposedLike a river, like readingA book where the TaddyCarries you home from the toy fairRain-warped, like A Child’sGarden Of VersesTaut, like the shipHooked into it. [End Page 21]

Cottonwood

—puffed up seeds, how they lift in the lightand blow around the houses as if the houseswere bellows. Or as if they leapt to the noteof a bluebird above the rush of the Roaring Fork.I feel in their light for a lighthearted girl who talksback to the world in vagrant fairy-talk,

who would have crammed the pockets of her pinnywith secret stars to quilt her secret hauntbetween the elephant-roots of the row of pineswhere she spies on the sweeping witches—tiptoe,sticky with resin, and on the brink of flight.

It was touch and go, and all too soonpockets gape open, roots give up their haven—and cottonwood seedsdrop in the gutters like stars thrown out of nightand witches go into the housesand girls run out of sight. [End Page 22]

Cally Conan-Davies

Cally Conan-Davies is from the island of Tasmania. Her poems appear in the Hudson Review, Poetry, Quadrant, the Virginia Quarterly Review, Dark Horse, and other periodicals.

...

pdf

Share