The Annunciation (2018)
Something bolder than her
alights on the stone tiles,
wings folding like patterned silks.
Her visitor waits patiently
till she raises her eyes.
Storm and sunlight shaped
in a smooth face, godliness rising
to an unknown grade. A hand lifts
stopping the sun for a while, or so
it seems to the girl, kneeling
in its shadow.
The world turns a little.
They exchange a few words.
When he flies, nothing seems
changed at first, but the gentle blurring
of memory, and a new burden stirs.
Worry may lock itself in,
she murmurs, like the walls
of this garden.
Wrists crossed, thumbs entwined,
spreading her fingers’ wings
backwards and forwards in time
for a moment she feels she may
exit the garden the same way as him –
or soothe the small bird that reels inside.
An earlier version of The Annunciation was first published in Envoi and shortlisted for the Nottingham Open Poetry competition.
This version is included in Sea of the Edge, my first collection of poems published by Wundor Editions.
© Matthew Smith 2018 | Instagram