Judi Benson

And Still the Stones
 

The house shrinks and stretches,
sighs at night creaking the floorboards,
top of the house, crow's nest,
light and air, walls bare.
Slice of heaven we agreed,
lazy rocking evenings,
day's work done, ascending
to meet the sun, watch it go down
in a smother of clouds.
Some laws of nature still persist.
Sod's law, the rain on your parade,
your barbecue, wedding, laundry,
deck chair, bacci, papers.
The minutiae of it all. Things.
What are they without people
but relics to be studied by archaeologists.
A ribbon surviving flesh, faint lavender.
A shank of auburn hair without a head.
Gallstones in a jar, his and hers.
Note: his were bigger than his mum's.
Curiosities to be puzzled over
trying to put it all together. What sense?
Yes, I still take stones
to your grave site to confuse them.
Pink toned, blue grey, granite.
Stones from Alderney, Carteret, Cromer,
Norwich, Aldeburgh, Duluth, Dartmoor, Leide,
a cobblestone from Praha
that I'd like to think Mozart stubbed his toe on,
that tripped Kafka, who swore as I did,
the third time round. Round and round,
lost amongst the ever changing streets.

Florentina Yvonne Penciu

Judi Benson
 

Si Inca Pietrele (in traducere)

Casa se micsoreaza si se mareste,
se tanguie noaptea scartaind scandurile podelei,
acoperisul casei, cuib pentru cioara,
lumina si aer, pereti goi.
Fasie de rai am convenit,
toropite seri in balans,
terminata munca pe ziua de azi, inaltandu-se
spre a intalni soarele, spre a-l privi cum apune
intr-o plapuma de nori.
Anumite legi ale naturii persista inca.
Legea lui Sod, ploaia de pe esplanada ta,
gratarul tau, nunta, lenjerie,
sezlong, bace, hartii.
Superfluitatea tuturor acestor detalii. Lucruri.
Ce altceva sunt ele fara oameni
daca nu relicve spre a fi studiate de arheologi.
O panglica supravietuind carnii, lavanda plapanda.
Un smoc de par rosiatic fara un cap.
Pietre biliare intr-un borcan, ale lui si ale ei.
Ia aminte : ale lui erau mai mari ca ale mamei lui.
Ciudatenii cu care trebuie sa-ti bati capul
in incercarea de a le pune cap la cap. Ce sens are ?
Da, inca mai aduc pietre
la locul tau de veci pentru a-i deruta.
In nuante de roz, gri albastriu, granitice.
Pietre din Alderney, Carteret, Cromer,
Norwich, Aldeburgh, Duluth, Dartmoor, Leide,
o piatra de pavaj din Praga
de care imi place sa cred ca a dat cu piciorul Mozart,
ca s-a impiedicat Kafka, care a rostit cuvinte de ocara asa cum am facut si eu,
a treia oara dand tarcoale locului. Dand tarcoale iar si iar,
pierdut printre strazile mereu altele.