Thursday 15 October 2009

Poem by John Terry

based on a sculpture called
Spring, in progress in clay

Schooling Spring

No, not naked - see, here's my cap of leaves
that's dress enough for these bare woods - I bare
my skin to woodland after turn of year
under that dismal light which night believes
will soon replace our old ideas of day.
I use my beauty to push against the dark
until light triumphs. My parents go berserk,
can't understand how much I love the way
that Spring puts tiny eyes in every twig.
I help it remember how not to forget
by making green leaves from scraps of dresses
- no other clothes are needed. My toes dug
into leafmould I train Spring like a pet -
secretly, and no one ever guesses.

John Terry

Spring in progress in clay

more of Johns work can be found at

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