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Anthony Dalby

The Sentinels

They are here
Sentinels
Still and straight as Celtic crosses
Plaid and inlay
Woven with visions within their tresses
Carved from the bleached carcass of driftwood tortured in the surf

Then gone-but not quite
Held as an echo in the moan in the wind
the trembling light on the headland
the lyric of the gull
the light in your eyes.......

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Leaping Salmon

I will not dream another's sweet musings
when the truth is only partly known
the fruit is so sweet but of another knowledge

but face my own full on
naked in the darkness
and recognise that which has never been shown before
and dream it as my own

I will not share you with another
I cannot
for their knowledge would lack the spice of experience

I am the silver salmon driving out of the peat black water into the
daylight
Rising rising
timeless and heavy
Falling backwards into the darkness

I am inside you rising up through the water feeling the water rush past

[...] Read more

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