I'm trying to put the finishing touches on my graduate applications. This is one poem I'm hoping is nearing completion, or at least presentability. Is that a word? Oh well. Please to tell me what you think.
Millennium Bridge
St. Paul’s grows larger, larger until I
am standing on its roof,
the city small at my feet,
the city spiraling at my feet.
I can see from here—
here where breath comes cold,
and draws back to the river,
crawls across the river
to the heat of the Globe,
to the false sun heavy setting.
I hold it between my fingers,
hold it all, let go, wait to disappear
in audience applause.
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5 comments:
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This reminds me that I only have ten minutes to finish my grad school assignment.....
cool correlations between the historical heat of the southwark side of london--I like the last 2 stanzas best.
really lovely.
but why is the city "spiraling"? when I think of the city from St Paul's, I think of myriad intersections of straight lines--the river and the bridges, all the streets. even adjacent Paternoster Square, which is essentially circular in design, has prominent straight lines within the circles.
just a thought.
Maybe it's spiraling because the poet is scared of heights...?
No, I like the repetition in it, except, for no explicit reason, the second "here." I don't know why, so you can disregard it.
It's spiraling because she's just walked the steps of course. And the repetition mirrors the spiral steps and the dizzying. I really like the "heat of the Globe" even though I kind of resist mentioning the Globe. It seems like one of the less authentic spots in London, but I really do love the ambiguity of it. The other thing that caught me--it's cold, but the sun is heavy. Doesn't the winter sun seem half-sized and ephemeral somehow? I'm not sure.
I love the first stanza, the Globe line, and the poem I think overall.
FYI: I moved. winterberry is my new blog. Is this the best way to advertise this? I'm not sure... Anyway, see you sooner than later I hope.
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