{"id":912,"date":"2010-12-04T11:01:08","date_gmt":"2010-12-04T11:01:08","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/ink.verticalplus.co.uk\/archive\/?p=912"},"modified":"2010-12-04T11:01:08","modified_gmt":"2010-12-04T11:01:08","slug":"kerry-featherstone-is-watching-doves-fly","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/kerry-featherstone-is-watching-doves-fly\/","title":{"rendered":"Kerry Featherstone is watching doves fly"},"content":{"rendered":"

Doves Flying from Gravel in the Cemetery<\/span>


La Petite Maine, pouring silently<\/span>
though Montaigu across the water-meadow.<\/span>

I come up its banks, and through the stained gates.<\/span>
Then strain for resurrection:<\/span>
the notes of bones reshuffled, <\/span>

if I listen. In this cold, careful cemetery,<\/span>
still since November.<\/span>


But now the air is brought to life.  By<\/span>
the hush of wings <\/span>

rising from crunched gravel<\/span>
pathways.  Rock doves sweep over the close railings.<\/span>

Their quiet circle through the covered sky<\/span>
so easy it leaves<\/span>
behind only    <\/span>

white above grey:<\/span>

a line of water winding below and  the chalk of<\/span>
soft birds becoming smudged over the elms.  <\/span>
Flight out of the blind; barely heard.<\/span>


Then back to that autumn day on the Rue des Fleurs, <\/span>
soundless while cornering <\/span>
flint walls to find your marker,<\/span>

passing regards to wrought-iron graves. <\/span>

Some newly raised; <\/span>
all of us working on the silence.<\/span>



<\/font>* Kerry Featherstone<\/span> is lecturer in creative writing at Loughborough University. He writes poems and songs in French as well as English. www.myspace.com\/kerryorange<\/a><\/p>\n

<\/font><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Doves Flying from Gravel in the CemeteryLa Petite Maine, pouring silentlythough Montaigu across the water-meadow.I come up its banks, and through the stained gates.Then strain for resurrection:the notes of bones reshuffled, if I listen. In this cold, careful cemetery,still since November.But now the air is brought to life.  Bythe hush of wings rising from crunched […]<\/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-912","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-prose-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/912","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=912"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/912\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=912"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=912"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=912"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}