Spring 2015
HER JOURNEY: i. m. Kathleen Raine by Martin Burke
Sunset by Felix Vallotton
If you tremble at her shadow you will tremble at her words
Remembering the desolate temple of some deity lost to history
Not knowing which direction to take, following where I was led without wish or bargain to plead for
(And was that your face at a window - and did your hand take m ine and were our shadows one without
distinction?)
So where is your face and where is your hand and whose shadows are these meshed on the temple floor?
Go there, pluck a branch and enter dark time, dim world it is guardian of
Now you are there and not elsewhere where steps towards the living are steps towards the dead
On that stairway you must descend towards pale Eurydice, then Tiresias (some say he was blind) others
you know of because of a poem.
Remembering one thing because you remember another; recovering a past, fixing it as part of tradition,
The Linnet's Wings Poetry