The Museum of Water – a poem by Claire Trévien

The Museum of Water

Claire Trévien

I never tire of the repetition of bottles:
the evaporation of grief,
a great silty presence,
a shallow song.

Here is a bath bomb tuned to your body.
Elsewhere, backwash, broken water,
a hacked freezer, your favourite river
carried from one country to another.

Light in this postcard is
sieved through a kidney.
There is too much demand
for a street.

I’m naturally still. A pearl
starts with an attack
shattering the shell.

I splinter the pause,
reach for the bowl
and pour out voices
improbably fractured.

---

Purchase Claire’s latest collection, Astéronymes, through the Penned in the Margins website.