O let them be left, wildness and wet—
a line from Inversnaid—Gerard Manley Hopkins
I am trying to keep my head above but today elegies of belugas retrieved from Arctic floes
sand bags over a crashing dam
quietly designed
to stem the rage
of winter on the wane
So what to do about puddle clay
short-lived lichen the grey heron nesting on terminal moraine in full stop
the general thrusting
How to mourn
drowned mountains
drowned spires visible only at low tide
bells tolling intermittently
across the North Sea / summoning/
Last century /it surprises me to say/ my girlfriend’s nightdress catches fire /unlike a kingfisher/
her sculpted skin pink and glistening makes new topographies neck to knee She lifts her face away
What it takes to keep the head above
rivers of mud
The way it is oceans collide in terraced homes along sea roads
at the summit of high peaks
leaving a souvenir tree
disposable hearth /from Ikea/
exposed bones on the south face
of men and women in boots like Mallory
Julie Maclean's poems, short fiction and reviews have appeared in The Best Australian Poetry (UQP), Poetry (Chicago), Southerly, Island, Overland and The Age, among others. Her full collection, When I Saw Jimi was shortlisted for The Crashaw Prize (Salt) and went on to win the Geoff Stevens Poetry Prize, (Indigo Dreams, UK). www.juliemacleanwriter.com.