Across the Water
Alistair Noon is part of the English-speaking minority in central Brandenburg. Links to his poems, reviews and translations can be accessed via his myspace.
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The Tin Islands
Surf disperses like sawdust
as the bow prods through the water.
Provisions bleat in the hold.
Chalk looms. Our pilot's chart
sketches a child bounced
from the knee of Gaul.
So close you might think
land once governed here.
Waves rise as we return.
Sea and sky flood workings.
Tribes assemble to fight.
The crossing skews our keel.