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ALYS THORPE
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INDEX OF RETROSPECTIVE POETRY
where past and present interweave



 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

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two headed guide ?
Declination



 
 


        Age does not cripple, but the loss of mind,
        the will to try, seeps ever nearer bone.
        "She's doing well" they say, but I reach out
        to touch plain need; dropt thought, all frail and wry,
        and hair and skin grown soft. Your shrewd eyes miss
        the inward shot, and your accusing word
        mumbles a spelling test long over now,
        for class since gone to dust. And while I stroke
        your poor bent back, I hear your whispered cry.
        the lost life's orphaned thought you try, aloud

        who call out "Mummy!" to the gathering dark
        and feel dawn twilight rise within this dearth;
  your mirth, your flesh, your heart, your wants grow stark
        as inner haunting hounds you toward birth.
 
 
 

Alice Thorpe
copyright
7 August, 1997