Sunday, 9 February 2014

Henry Moore Sculpture

As a boy massaging you mother's hurt back
with embrocation, you felt the contours of spine,
jut of pelvis and scapula, twist of neck misaligned.
Feeling her pain your hands learned.

Feeling for form your hands remembered
the blade of bone shouldering
and braced against the cutting edge of pain.
You remembered her head, angled from the hurt.

You remembered the reek of ointment
in the closed kitchen. Now in clean air
a great maternal form surveys the moor,
shouldering the cutting edge of wind.

C A Norman

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