Against Restrictive Space

Marilyn Buck

1991

A chilly sunday morning
burns into brightness
the sun's relentless radiance
restrained
by a breeze
surely touched by the sea

I lie on dry
not-knowing-if-it-is-yet-time-to-die
grass
looking up through
anti-helicopter wires
punctuated by garish orange globes
against the chalked crystal sky

a glider appears
above restricted air space
without raising alarm
a silver breath
looping beyond confinement

a being
unseeable
hangs down
face to Earth
I wave
an illegal spatial contact

immured defiance

 

October 1991
Published in Concrete Garden, 1996