Friday, 28 September 2012
Day 98: September Moon
What I love about Ruth Padel is her wonderful way with words, her surreal descriptions. Like here, in this poem, a fox is a 'Parade of white shirtfront. A flame, horizontal,/with ear.'
And maybe this poem has helped me like this time of year just a bit better - just look at the colours in it - 'tangerine sparkler-head...wine-dark lily, dawnglow apricot' - a veritable autumn painting!
In The Open - Ruth Padel
September: Blood Moon, Wine Moon
Grape-cluster. Sacrifice. Pigs killed for winter
provision. Adults and cubs
look the same now: sorrelflame, split
conker, goldfish, marmalade; a splinter
of sanguine chrysanthemum,
tangerine sparkler-head, lit.
You meet him, your late summer fox, as you turn
off the lights, zipping back from a night with your girl,
and watch St Pancras' pinnacles
stamp phosphorous ribbons on a glory sky
of wine-dark lily, dawnglow apricot.
Here he is, sniffing. Those scenting-cells
wind you exactly. No mange, and no moult.
Parade of white shirtfront. A flame, horizontal,
with ears (one back, and one forward);
gilt eyes under fox-frown. And not - till
you brake, stop the engine - afraid.