Deryn Rees-Jones 

Poem of the month: Nightingale by Deryn Rees-Jones

Each month the Guardian’s Review section selects a poem to highlight
  
  

Photograph: Christopher Chuter/Alamy
Photograph: Christopher Chuter/Alamy Photograph: Christopher Chuter/Alamy Stock Photo

Dear bird of the early hours, little sharp-beaked,
brown bird, throat open, wise bird, jazz riff, cello start,
sad techno, harder heart, self broken / broken part, half
noun, verb start, bird till-death-and-dearest-part,
quickening and shard part, splintering
and feather voice, box lung, thrust voice
high strutter, sky grazer, floor grazer, leaf layer,
gallant player, lust sung, here we are alone together.
You’re opening my body to the night –
holding me together, throwing me apart.

From the Keats-Shelley Memorial Association’s Odes for John Keats, an anthology to mark the bicentenary of Keats’s great odes. Details at keats-shelley-house.org.

 

Leave a Comment

Required fields are marked *

*

*