Marcelle Freiman

‘Gethsemane’, on Patrick White

Gethsemane at your shoulder as you work, garden of sleep and torment, the betrayal of whispers you were born to, outside the frame, beyond the painter’s bloom and power the strikes of his marks of black and grey – both …

Posted in 80: NO THEME VI | Tagged

Their Soles

The soles of her feet when she sits on the sand by the breakwater, watching over the white boy in his sunhat digging, building castles. The soles of her (her?) feet crossed-over, poked from beneath the blanket – she sleeps …

Posted in 79: EKPHRASTIC | Tagged

Seven Ways of Mourning

1 Your name bends out of reach, the final spike shreds the skins of my remembering. 2 Engraved on stone, words tell: they came to this country they lived here, and died. 3 To show you scarlet bougainvillea in autumn …

Posted in 61: NO THEME III | Tagged