Fields
John Burnside, 16 July 1998
“... From my rotting body, flowers shall grow and I am in them and that is eternity. Edvard Munch I Landfill In ways the dead are laid or how they come to lie I recognise myself insomniac arms angled or crossed: children in skull caps soldiers with hobnailed boots or sandals placed like gifts beside their feet priests at the gates of death or afterlife their vestments stained with malt and carbon fingers rinsed with camomile or honeyed meadowsweet resemble me laid sleepless by your side as if there were something else some chore or rite to be completed ... ”