As you wake on the salt of another shore
 

I stand in the garden with the car fob,
Announcing the song of automation;
That bird which talks fatigue itself out of the belly of night,
Waves the small image of early morning grey into shining.
 
Somewhere golden offers up a glassful of gleam,
Weighing droplet upon droplet;
Twisted from the earth’s night turn.
 
And the drone of rise
Begins its sluggish meanderings on the tarmac,
As you wake on the salt of another shore.



* Having just returned to the UK after nearly seven years in the Czech Republic, where she taught creative writing, Helen Pletts is currently compiling her third volume of poetry – a collection of Prague poems in both Czech and English – to be published next year. Helen reads at CB1 Poets who meet regularly at The Punter in Cambridge. She also hopes to start teaching creative writing workshops again in 2011. You are welcome to visit www.stem-of-quietly-disarrayed-fertility.com