Christopher Barnes – Two Poems

Christopher Barnes

Two Poems

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True-to-type tips of millet

Are momentous.

Point blank into tussocks

We surround the billabong

By the stoop of fleabane glade –

To the telescoped peaks.

Each to each, us and them.

Slackening for lung-gulps

In sun whacked minutes,

We touch down at the plinth.

There settles an amber lake

In a polyvinyl bucket,

A homely make-believe pond

From which to bend and swig.

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Undimpled tins,

Glint-winky as clinking silver –


In-a-spin tins, clunked tins,

Sloshing through tenpin checkouts.

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