Where to begin? At the centre
or your culmination? My eye
works slowly, like a camera obscura.
No matter how long I look,
my mind cannot hold your shape
nor conjure its image.
Curled up prawn, copper and cream,
your face seems awry, with
a barn owl front and anemone side.
Logarithmic shell, marvellous spiral,
your turns grow wider, forget
themselves, open and fling out faster,
winding as a hawk on the hunt,
moths in the moonlight,
typhoons seen from space.
Effortless in deviations of pressure,
how do you survive unfazed,
grow chamber by chamber?
Jonathan Edis is a dad, poet, osteopath & international lecturer from the London-Essex ‘burbs, living in south east London, UK. He has been published by Ink, Sweat & Tears, Green Ink Poetry & the AUB Poetry Prize. He loves cinema, history, running & listening to cricket on TMS.
More work by Jonathan Edis
Tel: 028 7126 6946
Email: hueditor@theverbal.co
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