WORLD VOICES

THIS IS THE ONE WHO WILL LEAVE
  BY KERRY HARDIE


Contents

Home
Introduction
Dedication
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Thrush
Last Swim of the Day
Negation
The Satin Gown
October
Protecting the Buds
She Will Try Again to
     Recover Again

The Rough and the Smooth
A man died in the valley
     today,

What Happened to the
     Soviet Union

After the Prize
Porcelain Man
Being Here
Fear
On Reading Michael
     Longley's Snow Water

Reflection
Waning
Emigration Photo
California
Letter from the Old World
     to a Brother in the New

Sky
Domestic War
Grace
Freda Kahlo Goes Native
All Saints

World Voices Home

The Literary Explorer
Writers on the Job
Books Forgotten
Thomas E. Kennedy
Walter Cummins
Web Del Sol



Being Here

Fuschia flowers, weighted with rain.
Brown bog, covering the land.

All night I dream
winged otters that leap from a sea
the colour of ink. The sea breaks over black rocks,
wave upon wave, the rocks are far out
in deep water at night.

I wake and I try
to believe the grey light.

All day the otters stay close. Untamed and lithe.

The rain comes again.
The sky bends close to an earth
wrapped in flesh and in sadness.