On Holiday
1
Damp linen dozes on the line.
. Nothing perturbs me.
Minnows flit through my blood,
. my nerves are swallowtails
browsing alyssum.
. Infused with summer air,
my bones ping like wind chimes
. freed from a lintel hook.
Gray patinas of salt
. peel from windows
in the house
. of one-eyed oblivion.
2
From wickered trees,
wrens rout my parrot from her roost.
Soft wings round the silence
into a Tahitian pearl.
I’m a throat verging a vowel,
an empty cupful of wine,
a thread
both cut and spooled.
Anna Evas: Published internationally in literary journals such as Irises (The University of Canberra Vice-Chancellor’s International Poetry Prize), Michigan Quarterly Review and, soon, Long Poem Magazine (England), Anna Evas works as a lyricist, recording artist and composer.
