Bernadette Hall 2013
caged and crafted
like Gregor Samsa
in Kafka’s Metamorphosis
who is there willing to glow
like the wet stones in the wire gabion,
like underwater pulses
the acolyte shows me a leaf
‘we were born on that leaf, on that shoot,
our family’, she says
‘and I am one of the best leapers’
how lovely to walk with my arm around her waist
‘I am my own conman’ she says
and she repeats it
like the blade of light
that repeats itself
as it leaps off coca leaves
into the river
‘so this is it, she says, ‘this is the gold rush’
© BERNADETTE HALL 2013