THE ARTS FORUM

Feb 07, 2010 Features / Columnists, The Arts Forum

The Arts Forum can think of no better way of paying tribute to Phyllis Carter than with two of the poems her husband, Martin Carter, dedicated to her.

UNDER A NEAR SKY

A near sky, no stars, another night.
Without warning I think of you,
And the blown away spatter
of rain, on a window sill.

Unable to learn what dreams are storing up.
Closing my eyes that sleep might suddenly fall
like rain or visions, I, in urgent mood
know certain things are certain in one life.

The beat of water on the faraway sand
comes, bringing to me all your womanly figure
dress blown away, and hair alive as foam
or rioting leaves or blossoms without peace.

You have not lost what I have taken from you
and cherish in my violent memory.
Come. Let us race across the ocean, ebbing
under a near sky. (1961)

MY HAND IN YOURS

As in sleep, my hand in yours, yours
in mine. Your voice in my hearing
and memory, like the sound of stars
as they shine, not content with light
only. My fingertips walk on your face
gently. They tiptoe as a dream does
away from sleep into waking. In a tree
somewhere a bird calls out. And I wake up
my hand still in yours, in the midst
of the sound of stars and a far bird. (1972)

The Editor of The Arts Forum’s Page, Ameena Gafoor, can be reached by E-mail: [email protected] or by telephone: 592 227 6825. THE ARTS JOURNAL is available at all leading bookstores in Georgetown or from the editor or from Bernadette Persaud, e-mail: [email protected] or by telephone: 592 220 3337.