Poems

Rod Moran: from ‘The Lazarus Poems’ and ‘A Desolate Wind’

 From: The Lazarus Poems     XI   Lazarus Wept Bitter in His Soul   As stars ignited on the horizon, Lazarus stood by a lucent lagoon, Pondering the equations of loss, The ambivalence of his own status, Patient as a theologian in search Of angel feathers singed by moonlight, Wearing his silhouette like a rug. He trawled for fish luminous as rumour, Flecked by a litmus of nova light, Speckled herring the colour of quartz, Fluorescence of the sea’s mysteries. Lazarus watched an ancient comet flare, Returned from other trajectories, Frosting the dark sky like a white bird. He…

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