After the wind stops,
we are sloshed
to and fro in the silence
like drowned ducklings
or a photograph developing
in its tray.
Harder and harder to avoid,
these images of aftermath
and no reply:
a still garden
where the blossom
neither fails nor fruits,
the seedlings never push up
from the root,
the bee never docks
in the colour-blind flower.
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Will Eaves is a novelist and a poet. His latest book, Broken Consort: Essays, reviews, and other writings, is published by CB Editions.
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