Published January 15th, 2025
by Kate Copeland
Near human gold appear surrounding rivers
mountain buildings scaffold
the Muse, and bikes
and houses colour canals
Shops open on Sunday, I gather at treads
and deny the bills in the letterbox
I cut the sun with the knife
always in use, to open envelopes
while saving postmarks from far-away countries
for here I solely see enough
light on an evening skin
terribly lit, in a set season
The river a haven with a bow. Doubtless
what was desired
it seemed devotedly
against me – it unders me
still, it rages. Always, I see your entrance
to the new, a trace of
remarkable, though I might
travel a lesser destiny, along
a moon too deathpallid, steerless, like a night
trip, my daydreams. I travel
on. Done what is done?
How I will always heart you.
About the Poet
Kate Copeland resides in Rotterdam, South Holland, The Netherlands.
Read the poet's biography on Kate Copeland's Artist Page.
This poem is included in Poetry World #11,
published in the Wax Poetry and Art Library.
Previously published in Europe Poetry Magazine:
Let Me Go
by Irma Kurti
Edmonton Poetry Magazine is part of the Wax Poetry and Art Network.
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