Glowing on the Fifth February

by Tom Saer

My back in plasters, heading back.

I find some swans three years ago, they start to turn around my ears.

I saw the other world in water trees, the ripple spreads, its secondary eyes are open. Close and open irises to me,
reflection past the open tree.
Someone must have taken out a spade and done some work.

The earth is a black bird, red beaks,
the world looks red…

The seagull sees I’m carrying his master’s short stories. I watch him meet me, carry on hunting, very good.

The sky stays grey for Frankie and his friends, his wife sings at the desk and in the bathroom — I had to leave the book.

Outside now again. The one important part to do, I speed up, still tranquillity.

I am so close, arrive, I made good time. I am a nothing kind of man!

The lord’s trees call my name, they call out nothing, hands on eyes in sky.

Some snow is muddy on the ground.
I clean myself, I thank the tree I grasped, I find a stick to bury in the cloud.

I give my vision back, I find my spirit, nineteen years and it is here.

The Poor Print

Established in 2013, The Poor Print is the student-run newspaper of Oriel College, Oxford. Written by members of the JCR, MCR, SCR and staff, new issues are published fortnightly during term. Our current Executive Editors are Siddiq Islam and Jerric Chong.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s