Another video, this time reading two poems — “Halo” & “Long Light” — at The Alliance of Independent Authors's Indie Author Fringe Fest.

See below for the text of the poems.

HALO

My brother, Conor, used them as they should be used,

the rings. Hoops of grey rubber to throw at numbered

hooks on a board and make the grownups who came to our place

 

for their daily drink call out. Well done! when one caught on.

To me, each one was a thing to twirl atop my four-year-old

pointy finger, till it flew. Or an adornment to array my arms, 

 

making of me a Sheba or a Cleopatra, a queen of places 

with names like Abyssinia or Timbucktoo.  Their

circle of air was an ocean, open with everything.

 

And the black board used to chalk the tally was where, 

up on a barstool, I liked to practice writing: A. 

And B. And C.  And where, one day, with dust dancing 

 

round a nearby ray of sunlight, I was caught by a moment 

I now know will forever hold me rapt: when meaning 

came swimming towards me, white out of black, to set 

 

me smiling: Apple! And Ball! And Cat! Behind, Conor threw a ring

and the men were calling. Yes! Score! Good man yourself! while I

cast off, and lay down in language, braceletted wrists aloft.

 

LONG LIGHT
Every light creates a shadow, the stars
can’t shine without the night. Seek to muffle
up your sorrow: feel life fade inside,
and out. Loose it. Let it scour you hollow,
slice you open, clear your throat. Long
light lives by grace of shadow. The stars
are pleased to shine through night.

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