From The Sandi Coast Of The New World
Hung upon a string’s
the lion’s tooth that I found:
a necklace I made for you.
One of a diff’ring
two – with you, from fire pit,
I walked ‘neath the Southern Cross.
From The Royal Mount Of The Northern Territories
Dark ‘n curled hair.
Intense, in text, in person.
Meet me by Victor’ya Falls.
You’ve become settled,
fully integrated in
the mem’ries of another.
From An Old Norse Farm By A Clear, Bright Lake
Four-hand piano
playing under thatched roof
to Zimbabwean sunlight.
Lunarful midnight:
swimming through the cold water.
From friend to more to stranger…
From The Pure Land Of The Southern East & A Ford By The Willow Trees
Along the Irwell
(I taught you th’art of fencing.)
we walked from town to city.
Along the Irwell
(You left another for me.)
we walked from city to town.
From A Steep Hill By A Watery Meadow
I felt as though you
were… inevitable.
That feeling’s passed from my mind.
“At last! At last!” At
least (at last) t’was seen through: you
were not inevitable.
From The Port & Passage By The White Sea’s Coast
A brace of years; a
bond battled for – strive-strengthened.
Your impact sitting deeply.
In winter formed and
in winter ended. A bond
devastatingly caring.
william altoft 