The poem's not as bad as I recall it being. It has some quotable lines -
ages into blood that boils to the treetops, |
dries and falls. The strewn grounds become a counting house
where he plucks a flower that was once a pattern
on her carpet
and contains several attempts to preserve the past, however imperfectly. Map-makers have tried several ways to represent the globe on a flat surface -
trying to preserve the angles, the shortest distances,|
the areas, but he can't have them all or even any 2
and a hummingbird can only stay still by flapping its wings so fast that they disappear, like his memories of her.
as ghosts aren't seen in mirrors nor was she in dreams|
and his heart became a sucking hummingbird,
wings sacrificed for stillness.
The photo's from Leicester.