elizabeth jardine godwin Poems

One evening, when sun and moon ran the river
on silver and copper wires
a salmon leapt
...

and here's the thing...

my skin recovers from your hands
a drowned world of myths, maps and tides that have turned
...

Flashing over polished stones
our candles bobbed
like plums in cold water
...

A parcel lies, half open on the floor
inside, clothes
crumpled, worn and familiar
the soft dent of fingers, still discernable
...