Wendy Osgerbymusic everywhere,
rolling in secretive oceans, slicking trees,
curling like smoke over hills and hummocks,
sounds from centuries of mandolins and flutes,
harps, bayans, dulcimers, citterns hovering,
a universe of stray notes fluttering
around their stranded bodies.
If only they could hear it
stuck in a silent siding,
facing each other wondering
who will be the first to leave.
He taps his knee, the twitch in his eye tick-tocking
she laces her hands into steeples playing for time
she laces her hands into steeples playing for time
he taps his knee, the twitch in his eye tick-tocking
who will be the first to leave
facing each other wondering,
stuck in a silent siding.
If only they could hear it,
around their stranded bodies,
a universe of sound fluttering:
harps, bayans, dulcimers, citterns hovering,
sounds from centuries of mandolins and flutes
curling like smoke over hills and hummocks,
rolling in secretive oceans, slicking trees,
music everywhere.
Wendy Osgerby lives in the Cotswolds. After retirement as an art historian, she studied on the Diploma in Creative Writing at Oxford University, and subsequently the Masters in Creative Writing at Oxford Brookes University.
‘This poem was a response to Sally Flint’s brief on the course ‘Adventures in the Blind Field’ to consider the focus from the general to the particular in the opening of Alfred Hitchcock’s film The Lady Vanishes. The specular form allowed movement from the image of endless music to personal distress and isolation and out again. The poem was triggered by a photograph of a deserted Pullman coach.’
Wonderful work, I’m really pleased to see your poem here, Wendy.