Simon Barraclough

Jumper

You know the way the light accrues like crystal

in the dark tube and the breeze catches up

like you're 40 miles from an H-bomb test?

That's when I saw the woman’s neck tense up,

her calves define themselves, her spine draw back

to prime her breastbone for the coming leap.

The timetabled apocalypse came down

to drive the muck ball mice into their holes,

the piston of the train began to shunt

the embolism of her final day

and then she jumped.

The handle of her bag

flew out and looped itself around my wrist,

my fingers bit and held her tight.

She didn’t want to leave those things behind.

Braille

In time he will prick out cells with this spike,
sending code to the grooves of the sightless
fingers of those who would raise their hands
to the spigot of writing for a draught
after unblinking centuries of drought.

But right now the searching tip of the awl
is piercing the surface tension
of the little boy’s eye; a hummingbird
drilling black nectar and sipping out light.
The other eye will blank out in sympathy
as unfocused destiny sharpens.

2009