Kelle Harris

Kisses on the Landscape

brick walls can be swollen scars
on a landscape, loved by gusts of wind
that move like swallows
plunging into nylon curtains, swooping
over arms at windows
touching skin

a bee, heavy with moisture
scenting of sticky wood and dust
adrift in the gusting corridors of brick and nylon
hovering, humming
near skin at windows
a kiss on the landscape
 
© 2013 Kelle Harris

Glass Lantern

Guests shimmy, shine
through from soft cream carpet
to the rocky tiles with a sky blue
glaze out to the barked garden
Some don't see you, preoccupied
perhaps indifferent
as a man to a wife, as us 
to the moon and stars
Some, however are enraptured
enchanted by your checkered
brilliance; squares of vivid
glass. They are mesmerised 
by crimson, gold, dark blue,
deep, floating green.
The way the light does or doesn't
shine through.
When it shouts through, you transluce
and pale like an owl in the sun. But I
want to not know your secrets
To not pale your vibrant glass with light
Some want you to touch
needing to be intimate, real
in their way of touch
It's hard for them for your pattern is shaky
to be cradled with care 
and loved, not like a floppy
fur of rabbit but a 
fragile-hearted woman of the night.

 © 2013 Kelle Harris

Body in a Rockpool

The descent is dangerous, wingless
one risks broken legs, ankles, arms. These cliffs
are undermining. Crumbling stairs of rock
and barricades of boulders are stranded
like smashed idols waiting for absolution

Crabs crinoids pulsing-coral oysters
octopus blue-bottles broken-backed shrimp
sleep and glide, as she walks home by the cliff
on a dark, drunken night, feet crunching on fragile
rock and falls

Still, life sprawls in the blue pools devoted
to its rhythm, massing and teeming around
the girl's body. Sea daisies star-fish anemones
abalone. Silence, the waves, and the rock pools 
ringing like high strung hymns with their
resounding secret


© 2013 Kelle Harris

A Little Poetry

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