swifts  &  s l o w s · a quarterly of crisscrossings

a curlew feather
Simon Ravenscroft

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Winged Triptych from Soft to Hard / Cantation

1.

This is where I say my soft thoughts.

For example that I am alone like a tunnel, to quote Neruda (trans. Merwin).

Or that the clouds of swifts above the rooftops in late July are a melancholy swirling.

2.

You keep a curlew feather in a seam of your lucky coat.

For you I’d keep a curlew egg in a chest of stone.

You say the nest of the curlew is silent with snow.

3.

Form of morus, glowing fool of a tramline bird.

Shuttles to and fro before a looming black crag of volcanic dolerite.

Upon it broods the loathsome worm of lore set in microscopic gold.

‡

(Gilded, gilded, gilded heights).

(Quiet, quiet, quiet the reeds).

(Swift, swift, swift the hours).

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Simon Ravenscroft lives in Cambridge, England and teaches and writes in and around various arts subjects. He is based at the University of Cambridge where he is a Fellow of Magdalene College.