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