Mike in Finland

Two poems from my collection, Midas Touch, published by Ward Wood Publishing in 2010.

This is the title poem from my collection, Midas Touch, which was published by Ward Wood Publishing in November, 2010.

Midas Touch

I was about to take the first bite
from an apple when it happened.
My teeth skidded over the surface,
dragging lip from gum.
I dropped the thing like I´d been scalded
and it smashed. Glass, not gold.

I reached out to a chair, paused,
then laid my hand on. In ripples,
starting at my fingertips, the wood
paled down the back, across the seat,
down the legs. Paled to transparency.
Nobody´d sit there again.

The strangest part was looking
into a mirror and seeing
right through myself, all the way
back to childhood, like a story
I´d thought left behind in the dark.
This touch was its sequel.

And this is another poem from the collection:

Crossing The Alps
Two hours out of the village
I´d climbed the mountain´s shaded side
two months deeper into winter.

Coarse grass was brown, ground water
had flowed over the path
and frozen. I stopped.

The smooth sheet sloped down,
curled round the overhang, drips
falling onto rocks in the gully.

I put one foot on the ice,
shifted my weight, hesitated,
then moved my other foot forward.

Five steps carried me over, my pulse racing.
I stood on the brink, dislodging pebbles
and knew I had no way back.

As I climbed higher, peaks
reared up behind the black
ridgeback. Cresting it,

I toppled into the new view. Bank
behind bank of ice anchored on stone
all the way to Italy.

The village I´d left,
tethered to the foothills
by a winding cord of tarmac.