Thursday, 27 November 2008


Alone at night on a dock,
crouched low on wooden boards,
edge of a cool November lake.
Black water mirrors a moon
suspended above cedars–
we wend our way, the moon and I,
across a midnight streaked with stars.


Christine Swint
balanced on the edge


Jo said...

Beautiful, Christine, from the title down.

Michelle said...

Yes, Christine, it's gorgeous.

Rethabile said...

Each line carries a load, so that the final effect is to take weight off the poem, and let it just speak. Bravo.

maekitso said...

A lovely grey matter painting.

Richard Powell said...

So well captured without subjective intrusions and yet the feeling it evokes is rich.