A bar of shots on a good
night out, a little dizzy and swaying.
I found you, sunrise, by mistake.
The barricades and dock machinery
winding up. Two dozen squealing
sparrows, a barbecue blown hot
and untended still with onion and
cumin on the east side of the breeze, but
there you are, a horror of purple sky-
lights on thunderclouds, of missed
beginnings, a symphony orchestra
in a glasshouse, all clink, clash and bustle
when the time’s not right.
But still you’re there, sunrise,
waiting,
like quietness and
disaster. It was a mistake,
be sure of that. I didn’t turn up
for comfort or lush exhibitions.
So don’t give me those rubies drenched
in sea water, dolly-blushed cliffs, querulous
dogs and burnished cupid wing tips. Slim
pickings for night blinders. That’s not
where I want to be.
Amanda Oosthuizen’s stories and poems have been published online, in print, in galleries, in Winchester Cathedral and pasted up on the London Underground. Recent successes include the Winchester Poetry Prize and The Pre-Raphaelite Society’s poetry competition. Work is forthcoming in Cosmonauts Avenue, Prelude, Storgy, Riggwelter, Ellipsis and Under the Radar. She has an MA with distinction in Creative Writing from the University of Chichester where she was joint winner of the Kate Betts Prize; she earns her living by writing and arranging music and teaching woodwind.
The Cabinet of Heed 