Jo Bertini
will never equal the poem that does not exist.
Trembling, it crosses the frontier at dawn
from non-being to being
carrying a small banner,
bearing a message,
bringing news of the poem that does not exist,
that pulses like a star, red and green, no-colour,
blazing white against whiteness.
Listen to the universe -
those are the possibilities of order
buzzing and humming.
The outline of non-existent
can be held by he inner eye,
always moving, it assumes the shape of stillness.
'Over the Frontier'- Rosemary Dobson