Refreshing Horizons: Guest Poet Sophie Herxheimer
This is where you hire the boats
to row yourself back in time.
On board already, which ghost,
which ex? Memory operates
the oars. Mauve skies spread
inside you: pelvis to neck –
rising birds dot your torso sky
offer nouns in some distant English
steering back’s not easy
the boat rocks, getting out you need
a real person’s hand. Instead
some joker hid your land legs.