the thin gold rim
of a porcelain cup
its faded cowslips
from other springtimes
the tiny perfection
of a seahorse skeleton
with crown of spines intact
found in a rib of sand
a hand-stitched haori
its white silk lining
yellowed at the edges
a gift in Kyoto
old things – blurred
by memory’s traces
a shifting collage
of an imagined life
and re-imagined
in the lone corners
of the day (the wind
worrying at the trees)
as water colours
on tracing paper
overlaid and coexistent
in a life’s time.
