Trace - an element of doubt

Trace - through literature

When I started looking into trace a friend (an artist) got excited about the subject and began throwing information in my direction.

Amongst it all was a beautiful poem by Dannie Abse with whom Barbara once did a reading of this very poem.

So here it is now, because it forms the basis of some work

To own nothing, but to be-
like a vagrant wind that bears
faintest fragrance of the sea
or, in anger, lifts and tears
yet hoards no property;

I praise that state of mind:
wind, music, and you, are such.
All the visible you find
(the invisible you touch)
alter, and leave behind.

To pure being you devote
all your days. You are your eyes,
seemingly near but remote.
Gone, now, the sense of surprise,
like a dying musical note.

Like fragrance, you left no trace,
like anger, you came my way,
like music, you filled the space
(by going, the more you stay).
Departures were in your face.

Dannie Abse

posted by Lynda Cornwell @ 1:21 pm