{"id":593,"date":"2010-03-19T09:23:00","date_gmt":"2010-03-19T09:23:00","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/ink.verticalplus.co.uk\/archive\/?p=593"},"modified":"2020-12-09T11:59:59","modified_gmt":"2020-12-09T11:59:59","slug":"alison-brackenbury-searches-for-that-uncertain-something","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/alison-brackenbury-searches-for-that-uncertain-something\/","title":{"rendered":"Alison Brackenbury searches for that uncertain something"},"content":{"rendered":"

 
It<\/span>

What have I lost?  I cannot now remember.<\/span>
I frown at the roads\u2019 dazzle, count to three.<\/span>
Something I meant to do?  Something that slipped<\/span>
out of my mind\u2019s grip, a cool cup from lips?<\/span>
 <\/span>
Is it someone I lost?  But they are found<\/span>
in branches\u2019 nod, in dusk, patient as breath.<\/span>
The dead are safe.  The living may not care<\/span>
to love, but they can cough or call, still there.<\/span>
 <\/span>
I try each letter of the alphabet,<\/span><\/span>
I listen at the corner of my eye,<\/span>
I start to track each room where I had been<\/span>
as though I had dropped keys, through day or dream.<\/span>
 <\/span>
Then it draws back, forgives and lets me sleep.<\/span>
I whistle after breakfast, rattle bins.<\/span>
But it is gone, and you have lost it too,<\/span>
we listen, leaf through silence.  It was blue.<\/span>
 <\/span>


 <\/span>

* Alison Brackenbury<\/span>\u2019s seventh collection is Singing in the Dark<\/span>, Carcanet.  She has recently produced a chapbook of animal poems, Shadow<\/span>: <\/span>www.happenstancepress.com<\/a>.  New poems can be read at her website:  <\/span>www.alisonbrackenbury.co.uk <\/a><\/font><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

  ItWhat have I lost?  I cannot now remember.I frown at the roads\u2019 dazzle, count to three.Something I meant to do?  Something that slippedout of my mind\u2019s grip, a cool cup from lips? Is it someone I lost?  But they are foundin branches\u2019 nod, in dusk, patient as breath.The dead are safe.  The living may not […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"","_et_pb_old_content":"","_et_gb_content_width":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[7],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-593","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-prose-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/593","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=593"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/593\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":23664,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/593\/revisions\/23664"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=593"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=593"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=593"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}