Dunt: a poem for a dried up river

Alice Oswald

Very small and damaged and quite dry,
a Roman water nymph made of bone
tries to summon a river out of limestone

very eroded faded
her left arm missing and both legs from the knee down
a Roman water nymph made of bone
tries to summon a river out of limestone

exhausted      utterly worn down
a Roman water nymph made of bone
being the last known speaker of her language
she tries to summon a river out of limestone

little distant sound of dry grass     try again

a Roman water nymph made of bone
very endangered now
in a largely unintelligible monotone
she tries to summon a river out of limestone

little distant sound as of dry grass    try again

exquisite bone figurine with upturned urn
in her passionate self-esteem she smiles looking sideways
she seemingly has no voice but a throat-clearing rustle
as of dry grass           try again

she tries leaning
pouring pure outwardness out of a grey urn

little slithering sounds as of a rabbit man in full night-gear,
who lies so low in the rickety willowherb
that a fox trots out of the woods
and over his back and away       try again

she tries leaning
pouring pure outwardness out of a grey urn
little lapping sounds      yes
as of dry grass secretly drinking       try again


little lapping sounds    yes
as of dry grass secretly drinking      try again

Roman bone figurine
year after year in a sealed glass case
having lost the hearing of her surroundings
she struggles to summon a river out of limestone

little shuffling sound as of approaching slippers

year after year in a sealed glass case
a Roman water nymph made of bone
she struggles to summon a river out of limestone

little shuffling sound as of a nearly dried-up woman
not really moving through the fields
having had the gleam taken out of her
to the point where she resembles twilight       try again

little shuffling clicking
she opens the door of the church
little distant sounds of shut-away singing     try again