Home > assh > kunapipi > Vol. 20 (1998) > Iss. 2
Abstract
Angel, how numb your shoulders are, how they sag with the burden of feathers that pull you down to the dark rim of a darkening earth. And when you lift your eyes from the oily slap of water, they gleam briefly, a flint that no light gives you, not the burning iron ships, nor the harboured moon, nor the flare of a match, your eyes gleam with the agony of presence.
Recommended Citation
Croggon, Alison, THE HARBOUR, Kunapipi, 20(2), 1998.
Available at:https://ro.uow.edu.au/kunapipi/vol20/iss2/20
