Poem from:

Human Costume by A.E. Stringer

More Details


Stringer, A.E.

Across latitudes of scrub and dune
a fiery wind skips, fine-tuning the arcs
and folds of your body.  I have never
been to the desert, though zephyrs
dusted upslope to the small house
where we lived.  Wherever you lie now
is dry, I imagine, sun in decline
and catenaries of shadow stretched out
from you as in photographs, close-up,
of human sandscapes: cleft of elbow,
crest of thigh, wind-swept shoulder.
I have studied them, meandering
through a gallery of you, no
sense of scale, no oasis anywhere.

Copyright A.E. Stringer 2009

Please turn on speakers
Download this MP3

Salmon Poetry Home Page The Arts Council Salmon Poetry Home Page The Arts Council