Tan Morgan Poems

You were my shadow in the darkness
of the kneading-trough.
I taught you to speak, to love;
named you for the child I lost,
...

October's dying, and I'm looking for a friend,
A kindred spirit I've mislaid
Somewhere between a grief and recollection.
This bus - an any bus - pulls up,
...

Trudging the marsh,
Looking for dragonflies, watersnails, tadpoles;
My breath sucked at the April mist-water,
My boots grew gills;
...

In case I am marooned on a desert island,
I'll equip myself with twine, a Swiss army knife,
And Ray Mears.
I'll bring sandals, blankets,
...

The rink, like a disc of frosting
In a baker's display,
Was encrusted with children -
Three hundred hats on three hundred heads,
...

Three storeys of fading memories
Stand on a hill.
Uninhabitable.
I tread the ribcage of its staircase,
...