Excerpt from Acres of Light

Page 1


Acres of Light


Acres of Light K ATHERINE GALLAGHER

2016


Published by Arc Publications Nanholme Mill, Shaw Wood Road, Todmorden OL14 6DA, UK www.arcpublications.co.uk

Copyright Š Katherine Gallagher, 2016 Copyright in the present edition Š Arc Publications, 2016 Design by Tony Ward Printed by Lightning Source

978 1910345 73 3 (pbk) 978 1910345 74 0 (hbk) 978 1910345 75 7 (ebk)

The cover painting is by Pierre Vella, by kind permission of the artist.

This book is in copyright. Subject to statutory exception and to provision of relevant collective licensing agreements, no reproduction of any part of this book may take place without the written permission of Arc Publications.

Editor for the UK and Ireland: John W. Clarke


for Bernard and Julien


Contents

I: G r ee n G rov e s a n d F l owe r i ng A l m on d

Elan / 13 A Measure of Stillness / 14 The Spell of Fireflies / 15 Ghazal: the Fire / 16 Credo / 17 Turnabout / 18 Port des Barques, Late August / 19 Quotidian / 20 I I : L ov e -s ong s f rom A fa r

I could have been born in a taxi / 23 Odyssey / 24 Rings / 25 My Mother’s Horse-shoe Ring / 26 Gold Town / 27 Lonesome Tonight / 28 The Mastery of Horses / 29 Farm Dam, Eastville / 30 Finding the Prince / 31 I I I : S t o r m s a n d t h e B r e at h o f O w l s

Riverboat / 35 Before the Storm (after Bergh’s Nordic Summer Evening) / 36 Birthday Owl / 37 Choices / 38 Palmerston Road, Sunday mid-Morning, N22 / 39 Owl on the Nursery Window Sill – a fable / 40 A Cautionary Tale / 42 Railway Fields Tanka / 43 Beatles Poem / 44 Haiku / 45


I V: C on s t e l l at ion s a n d a D r e a m o f O ce a n s

The Dream is the Ocean / 49 Lemon Gums / 50 Bees / 51 The Mountain / 52 Snow / 53 The Brief of Travelling / 54 Ode to the Boeing 747 / 55 Coming into Zurich / 56 Terror / 57 Bullies / 58 Mouse in a Trap / 59 Photograph – Mekong Delta, South Vietnam, 1965 / 60 Refugees at the Aid Centre, Deghabur, Ethiopia / 61 Ireland 1972 / 62 V: A c r e s o f L ig h t

Going Back to the Farm / 67 The Serenity Prayer / 68 The Telling / 69 Your Story / 70 Eastville Sonata / 71 Retrospect / 72 The Shearing-Shed / 73 The Presence of the Trees / 74 Biographical Note / 76 Acknowledgements / 79


M ot h e r T ongu e

I have changed from myself into myself from moment to moment sprung into fragments on the word path Mother tongue you piece me together a human mosaic

Rose Ausländer

(tr. Jean Boase-Beier)


I

G r ee n g rov e s a n d f l owe r i ng a l mon d


Elan (Holland Park)

Under leafing chestnuts, flowering almond, cherry, April gathers a blanket-greening, tendrils float. A boy plays Summertime on a sax, practises over and over. Now he tries Scarborough Fair – silky, lissom. I walk lightheaded, heels gliding, in love with all this – the halcyon afternoon, its warming breeze… A peacock, tail-fanned, struts, dazzles among daisies, daffodils. Children’s voices split the air. Islands of chat echo, grass grows beneath us: minute blades stir, flicker – something is happening – a season emptying into the moment, rinsing clean.

13


A Measure of Stillness

Through yellowed wheat, sunflowers, along straight roads sparse with trees, summer’s haze shearing the air, suddenly rising above the plain, the non-identical spires. As I drive closer, the cathedral seems to disappear among tower-blocks, factories, streets zigzagging around mediaeval hills – this pilgrimage to Chartres where I am learning to take my cue from its heart – its dance in space – to never take my eyes from the spires, the bowl, the ark lifting burning into a teal sky.

14


The Spell of Fireflies

I like mirrors, miracles and handouts, being in love, telling people I care and sometimes talking to myself. I tend to think there’s mostly a way out, and that one can count on surprises such as unicorns and fireflies. At a pinch, I believe in time-pieces, hair extensions and fake tans, a sugar-free diet, and testing chairs for comfort. Love can make you wise to the future, laced with a just-right, wake-up tale. I believe in sprinting the extra mile and in happy days for optimists. I like to think there’s good in vitamin-pills and know you can’t make a garden in a rush. I prefer a minimum of walls and a roof with windows. Sometimes I am stunned by the comeback of the moment. Icebergs, oceans and Arctic skies are in the same count as polar bears. I shall continue to rely on the bedrock of rice and raspberries, while still trying to place the bigger picture – winners and losers on their dizzying slopes.

15


Ghazal: the Fire

When your heart grips and won’t let go, it’s fire; don’t fear it. Hear it, say it could be fire. Though your dream has not been easy, you think it’s true; grab the chance, this dance. Embrace the fire. When you hear the words that chase and race your days along new shores, believe. It must be fire. Don’t hesitate and bait the silence, there’s no recipe for those who wait for love: trust the fire. When a voice inside you flicks the switch and a million sparks ignite, you think it’s fire. When you wake on the breaking edge of wanting more, and read the fine-print as before, you’re sure it’s fire. When you catch the dream up-close, it lives in you, keeps you in its glow. You know it’s fire.

16


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