Ekphrasis piece responding to Nadine Christensen “South” (2003) Acrylic on board with cedar stretcher 35.5 x 45.5cm


i still see it            telephone wire iv            cut off from all others             and close to death

baby pink baby rattle            ghost of little girl’s giggle            we dance across             the halls

waves of gravel test the foundations            (stony seafoam)            of our abandoned home



i still see you            you nobody through the no-door            entrance wound            (oxygen kissed

mouth)             i still remember            cheapest necklace you could find            wearing moss

like residue            after all this time            rust on a chain lost in a box of birthday cards



i am nothing but an observer            the air that whines through            what was once a window

even back then all i did was watch            through the glass            the earth spin on

the birds’ birth            the blue speckled eggs above the doorframe            you nearly stopped it



almost crushed it            in your infant fist           when we saw the framed memory            (bite of lies)

crunch of bones on the lawn            unearthed by the ocean storm            and twigs snapped under

bare feet on the evergreen hill            we survived it all            but now you want to leave



“it’s only canvas”          your response to my blame            eyes roll down the glassy slope

echoed steps of other patrons            you won’t remember with me            our false beginning

you move onwards            i barrel backwards            time spent in the overgrown yard



you never lived there            i can’t see it anymore            those years spent parallel in suburbia

shoved in other bodies            a trip to the gallery            you are tired of my goose chases

through imagined tales            i can still feel your protest            pulsing through the paint