afternoon tea with Virginia Woolf

 

over the flower beds

over the fumes and steams

over the neck of a horse

over the same broad leaves

over the limb

over the pastry and fruit

over the mass and edge

over the shell against stone

over the one bright feather

over the sharp wedges

over the pressure of the morning

over the swift scales

over the glaze of china

over the bulk of a cupboard

 

 

afternoon tea with Virginia Woolf: 2

the curtain quivers

‘I am a poet, yes’

 

©Paula Green (Cookhouse, Auckland University Press, 1997)

 

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