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Mal de la mer, or I walked the island searching for you

 

1.
À l’îsle, where sealers, marauders, naturalists came, the amphibology 

of strangers-not-estranged.

Trying to eulogise, outlining from ornithology to anthology, 


almost preservation.


My first words are amatory, armoury, (à)mourir                                 to have and to hoard

                                       damaged bone, the tarsometarsus, a prized feather 

                                                                              (... don’t think it hasn’t hurt me). 

Read Michelle's poem 'Mal de la mer, or I walked the island searching for you'.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Go to Michelle Cahill's profile to read more poems