Zennor Rising

 

A bumblebee tug

of buzzing cord

in the gurning loop

of welcome

I wait

suspended

until the new tongue speaks

its clang and deafen

I rise

like a shoddy angel

All I see is new

up with the cold stare of bells

to the moors and cliffs

the fish-scale slate

on the Tinners Arms

I ring a half-remembered language

from a gargoyle’s grin

Rooks scatter

like an omen

cursing across the fields

 

This is the third poem from Katrina in the Film V Poetry collaboration with visual artist Tim Ridley. Tim’s film response will be posted here on 19 January 2015. Katrina then has two weeks to react to Tim’s film with a new poem #filmvpoetry