Europe (1)

1

It hurts to be always the guest,
The unwanted stranger who eats
And sleeps in another man’s house.
He welcomes with water as much

To steady my nerves as quench thirst,
Refrains from enquiries at first
But finally asks for my name,
Birthplace, occupation and age

If he feels familiar enough.
The worst are the questions withheld,
The quick wondering looks as they shift
And offer a place in the group,

Make room at the table and share
The food barely covering plates.
'Will he use his knife to cut meat
Or our tongues and eyes from our heads

For wagging and staring too long?’
This evening from the dark yard,
Unable to join in I watched
The family happily talk,

Light flooding their faces with warmth
And panic my mind as I took
A tree in my arms and was home,
Night nailing me there with the stars.

2 (After a painting by George Iakovides, Athens)

I’ve never seen such happiness,
Such joy as these Greek children show
Who blow their whistles and their flutes,
Beat kettle drums and play violins

With all the energy they’ve got,
Their heads thrown back and legs stretched out,
Eyes glistening with a wild delight
As desperately they keep in time,

Resist the chaos of their souls,
Unmindful of a glowing tree
With flowers like a fall of snow,
The clock as truthful as a skull.

3

I’ve woken feeling tired. It’s difficult to rise,
Like Michelangelo’s prisoners in stone,
Half-surfaced, half-wanting to rejoin
Their flawless dream of natural shape and line.

But one is more at rest. His bed is soft.
He’s still part of a hill remembering waterfalls,
The clutch of roots and wedging sun that fashioned him.
I too would be released and sink more deeply in.

4

I love this Rembrandt most, the wisps of beard
And quietly folded hands, the hint of cloak and chair.
At least two thirds is background and it’s black,

Most of the clothing too. Some of the face,
Faintly skeletal, the eyes rheum-filled and soft,
Has been lost to the dark, the curtain nearly drawn.

(From Life Given, Indigo/Ginninderra Press, 2002)

© Copyright: Graeme Hetherington