This is what it comes down to: me on a park bench always writing. This is what it comes down to.

-Ada Limon

Antonia Matthew was born in England before World War II. Her radio play, “Antonia’s Homefront” built around the letters she received from her father in Burma during WWII has recently been produced on WFHB By Richard Fish and won a Gold Award in “Hear Now Audio Fiction and Arts Festival.” She is a member of the Writers Guild of Bloomington and a student of Women Writing for Change, Bloomington, Indiana.

Welcome to the Poets Weave. I’m Romayne Rubinas Dorsey. Antonia, what poems have you brought for us today?

Seascapes

1.
The wind off the gray sea
passes through the sharp-edged dune grass
rattling it, tossing sand and salt spray
on my skin and I lick my lips
for its sharp grittiness.
The incoming tide fills the rock pools
swirls the dark seaweed.

On the California coast
the land looks away towards the horizon
as if yearning for another shore.
I feel unbalanced at this continent’s final edge.

2.
Once I stood high on the rocky island of Patmos,
under my feet the cave of the prophet
who spoke these words,
“In the sea of glass
mingled with fire
every island fled away.”

And I surrounded by islands
scattered
on the smooth bright sea
stretching away on every side,
imagine lifting my arms
crying out to the islands,
“I am ready to flee with you
Across the fiery sea of glass.”

3.
In North Cornwall the coast is jagged,
headlands jet out
into the incoming cloudy waves
that collide against these bleak shores
again again.
The cliffs, the fallen boulders
worn away as the relentless sea erodes them.

I crouch on the cliff top,
looking down at this merciless destruction,

and the sweet smell of thyme
crushed under my feet
cannot comfort me.

One day the sea will drown us all.


The evening Ark

70,000 species are being threatened with extinction. -- IUCN

The wooden vessel drifts
upon no sea no wind
blows no stars guide
only a blood red moon
observes.

On the deck:

steadfast Spectacled Bear
stolidly looks ahead searching

frantic Mali Elephant
ears flapping trunk raised
lets out a silent wail

Nubian Giraffe
head thrown back
keens with the Elephant
into this emptiness

sad-eyed Monk Seal
gasps aching
for its sleek sea-wet pod.

Spider Monkey
is glimpsed
in its moment of leaping.

Below deck:

yearning in silence
Amur Leopard Sumatran Elephant
Pangolin Wild Red Dog,
Blue Whale White Rhinoceros
Monar...

But this is The Evening Ark
with nowhere to land.


Hearing aid

Pink naked
seashell spiral
hollow within
for hermit crab
of wires
battery

I slip you into my own
fleshy shell that aches
to hear not only daily sounds
but far off echoes
of the breaking sea


You’ve been listening to the poetry of Antonia Matthew on the Poets Weave. I’m Romayne Rubinas Dorsey.