Saturday, 28 March 2020

A DARK SPELL: a poem

I wrote this poem in 1983. It had been germinating since a Christmas a few years before, but it was  listening to Eberhard Weber's 'A Dark Spell', from his 1980 album Little Movements, that helped it coalesce. Here's a link to the tune, see if you can feel how. It hasn't changed very much since then, but I also don't seem to have considered it for publication anywhere in the ensuing decades. But I am putting together a collection of poems I've written inspired by ECM records, so here it is now, for the first time....

                                   after Eberhard Weber

between now &
closing we
both could lose

this unmeasured
sense of
freedom, which

is freedom it-
self. A fire
might die in

our faces be-
fore we reached
its flame, be-

fore we saw
each other
by its light.

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