by Joe Winter | Mar 18, 2021 | At the Tate Modern, Poems
Sestina To look at the sea is to take part in an onwardnessfrom the year dot. To venture upon an original coming and going of ways, a multitudinousshift – is to witness a miracle at once from the outside and in. Alleluiasay the waves. It is to dive deep in a...
by Joe Winter | Mar 18, 2021 | At the Tate Modern, Poems
Birthday Text I wish you a very happy day. A careful birthday text reminds me ofthe value of friendship. Onto a current of beingmy body found its way. And scarcely adult(after a child-path like an obstacle-course)it took me to quick waters: and I met you.How far ago,...
by Joe Winter | Mar 18, 2021 | At the Tate Modern, Poems
Upping Sticks for Florence I’ll be away soon from my old knockabout palace, and a rich forest of leaves in the garden beyond.The rusty old key I shall turn, and lower the portcullis, and off to fresh pastures . . . and a new deepening bondwith the roof of day and...
by Joe Winter | Mar 18, 2021 | At the Tate Modern, Poems
Act 1 to Myla So much to be, so much to do, so much to leave behind. Still through the play to come, at each amazing scene, a thought from the past will quicken, as if new whatever role you take. All you have been to this day makes the rest more rich, more true. So...
by Joe Winter | Sep 8, 2020 | At the Tate Modern, Poems
SestinaTo look at the sea is to be part of an onwardnessfrom the year dot. To venture upon an original coming and going of ways, a multitudinousshift – is to witness a miracle at once from the outside and in. Alleluiasay the waves. It is to dive deep in a firmamentof...
by Joe Winter | Sep 8, 2020 | At the Tate Modern, Poems
To the Sea Speak, speak, speak to me, Mother of all the children of light. In your power is a fostering spell of creation. Soon now my earthly hour is to be dashed into spray. Speak speak in your rock-crash, your shore-shifting cry, to a child of the light and a child...
