CARDIFF, REMEMBER, OPEN, ORDERED, COW, DEATH

Cardiff is one of those words.
If language is a map, words
ordered by their relationship,
it is right out there, so far
off in the open it is nowhere.

It is one of those words, that
you know, you recognise, you
remember but you just don’t know
what it means. You carry it
around, but you can’t get it
out of the herd. I guess cows
recognise each other with that
black and white pattern I guess is
unique-but then I know you all
but don’t recognise your fingertips.
Cardiff is one of those words.
I know it’s there
in Wales, but where in Wales.
I don’t know. I don’t know who does
Cardiff is one of those words.
So is death.

Jo Swift

Tags: Brightsparks Poets, Published Work