Glenrudel Moors
Huge blades fall
continuously-splicing
the air as if it were grass.
And she complains that all
her dreams have come to nothing
and that nothing ever lasts.
And the more she talks
the more her voice breaks
and the more she reduces
me to tears. And the wide sweep
of the wind turbine blades
slow down to a gentle creep
making a faint sighing sound
like someone breathing
their last measures of air.
And she will have me believe
that the sun has been snuffed
behind those black clouds.
And she will not be fooled
by the moon’s strained calmness
behind that bruised face.
Nor by those weak shrouds
of leant light that will dissolve to nothing.
Now all the turbines have failed
to turn. They are twisted crucifixes
on which her dreams are nailed.
And the rain is falling
in the windless night.
And she is disappearing
in the immense dark
as lost and far from my broken face
as an astronaut adrift in space.
Tariq Latif has has three poetry collections all published by Arc. A pamphlet entitled, Smithereens, was published this Autumn also by Arc.