Peter Tassell PTassell@aol.com letters reviews sof 69 January 2005 It Haunts Rug from the Atlas Mountains for Redha On our knees we examine the weaving: the folded-in birds, turtles with wayward steps, horse-figures, and butterflies wide as farms, girls holding hands in a row, faded here and there, camel-shadows – burdened, a grey teapot.
A tree of banners. My mother gave this to us years ago.
The long and tangled threads of wool under the rug are dark blue and plenty, white and yellow, brilliant red, bound together and sticking out like plums, knotted for the duration.
Sometimes we turn the rug over, and it is all still there, just as it always was, still perfectly made – we are reminded of those intenser hidden colours that bind, the intricate warmth, sun fading the surface forms – how little it takes for you to move me.
Peter Abbs Jane Duran’s latest poetry collection was Silences from the Spanish CivilWar (Enitharmon,London 2002). ‘Rug from the Atlas Mountains’was previously published in thetall-lighthouse review.