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VII 

I had forgotten the years, now wakened 

By the creature that washed towards me. 

Yet another ship passed, familiar sails stretched 

Upon racks of wind, ropes taut against spars, 

Enough to rip a man’s hand trapped there. 

Careless with rum, wistful for a shore 

Of women. None of these things disturbed me 

Then, not the commandments of braided 

Officers, nor the sobbing of offenders 

Tied naked to the mast, cold winds like gannets 

Gathering at their flesh. For years I had known 

These scenes, and I had forgotten the years – 

Until it broke the waters, close 

To my face, salt splash burning my eyes 

Awake. 

IX  

Birds I call by their plumage and cry 

As these hundred years and more I have made 

Names for places dwelt in, people forgotten: 

Words are all I have left of my eyes, 

Words of my own dreaming and those that Turner 

Primed in my mouth. I float eyeless, indelibly, 

My mind a garment of invention. Birds circle 

At the bounty, vengeful, but I call them 

Gentle names – Flambeau, Sulsi, Aramanda. 

This one, arrogant in beauty, feathers  

Blown loose, I baptise Tanje after the strumpet 

Of our village. See how it reaches with bright wings 

And beak, but a sudden wave beats it back, the child 

Floats towards me, bloodied at first, but the sea 

Will cleanse it. It has bleached me too of colour, 

Painted me gaudy, dabs of ebony, 

An arabesque of blues and vermillions, 

Sea-quats cling to my body like gorgeous 

Ornaments. I have become the sea’s whore, 

Yielding.