John Glenday

[pachamama.livejournal.com]

Etching of a Line of Trees on a Hill Above Auchterhouse
by John Glenday

in memorium John Goodfellow Glenday

I carved out the careful absence of a hill and a hill grew.
I cut away the fabric of the trees
and the trees stood shivering in the darkness.

When I had burned off the last syllables of wind,
a fresh wind rose and lingered.
But because I could not bring myself

to remove you from that hill,
you are no longer there. How wonderful it is
that neither of us managed to survive

when it was love that surely pulled the burr
and love that gnawed its own shape from the burnished air
and love that bent that absent wind against a tree.

Some shadow's hands moved with my hands
and everything I touched was turned to darkness
and everything I could not touch was light.

Comments

[rymenhild.livejournal.com]

Oh. Oh. Breathtaking.

Thank you.

[pachamama.livejournal.com]

Glenday is absolutely amazing. He hasn't produced vast volumes, but every poem is so worth waiting for.

[peoplevsme.livejournal.com]

wow.

[teithiwr.livejournal.com]

That is amazing. What a way with words!

[longtime-lurker.livejournal.com]

Whoa, what gorgeous imagery.