'My Place or Yours'
By Omi Clarke
I’m in awe of Geography;
Affords me the space to make places, put topography under paces.
Back and forth, heading south to look north.
This. Here. A place of stasis.
An isolated evasive.
Under arrest to reflect on way off directives.
It’s a double life where ocean meets land.
Loose traces come back in the form of debris. Sand.
Underfoot and quickly under rug, sand, like dust,
Not solid enough to strike the heart strings,
Not potent like distant vistas.
The imminent impediment of a sun- set in cement.
I’m in awe of geography
It compels me to cartography
Without root or reference, I can hardly expect to know ascent, gradient, or motion at all
Recognise a point of origin, as point of departure.
I can construct time with this frame in mind,
And as sea and land thresh and hold,
I’ll find a volatile place to evolve.