Interiors
Arrayed against
a wall, books guard their space,
withholding
stories from light that stabs at
windows, gouges
pathways in the floor.
The walls bleed
rainbows. Sharp lines
hold closed
geometries, abandoning
the undefined.
There is no way
to unlock this
inner space, no way to pierce
its boundaries,
to taste the air
that hugs
corners close, tries to squeeze
through spaces
between window and frame.
Walls resist.
Books stay closed, implacable
their phantoms
locked inside.
These locks
hold no keys. Against a window,
imprint of
wings beating to get in.
Marian Christie is from Harare, Zimbabwe. She lived in various countries in Africa, Europe and the Middle East before moving to her present home in southeast England.
Marian has published two books of poetry, Fractal Poems and Triangles, with Penteract Press, and a book of essays with Beir Bua Press: From Fibs to Fractals: exploring mathematical forms in poetry. She is currently co-editing an anthology of poetry by Zimbabwean women, to be published by Carnelian Heart in autumn 2023.
Marian blogs at www.marianchristiepoetry.net and is on Twitter @marian_v_o.