2 Poems by Jenny Blackford

11

To spin the wind

 

Taller and paler and even more slender

than Elves or Eloi, a long line of ladies

 

(each lifted one-legged) loops bald yellow hills.

Lizards and bandicoots scrabble in dust;

 

hawks hunt the dry sky. High-whirling arms

spin wind into power, weave lightning from air

 

for us all, for the land, for the sky.

 

 

Lamb’s Ears (Stachys byzantina)

 

There’s a new plant

in the garden, a suede-soft

groundcover mounding silver

underneath the purple fountain

of New Zealand flax.

 

It wasn’t there last night

must have grown

like a mushroom

silent in the dark.

 

It looks a lot like Stachys,

but even silkier to touch.

If you sneak close enough

to stroke the ears

you’ll hear it purr.

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