Poem
Colette Bryce
The Full Indian Rope Trick
The Full Indian Rope Trick
The Full Indian Rope Trick
There was no secretmurmured down through a long line
of elect; no dark fakir, no flutter
of notes from a pipe,
no proof, no footage of it –
but I did it,
Guildhall Square, noon,
in front of everyone.
There were walls, bells, passers-by;
a rope, thrown, caught by the sky
and me, young, up and away,
goodbye.
Goodbye, goodbye.
Thin air. First try.
A crowd hushed, squinting eyes
at a full sun. There
on the stones
the slack weight of a rope
coiled in a crate, a braid
eighteen summers long,
and me –
I’m long gone,
my one-off trick
unique, unequalled since.
And what would I tell them
given the chance?
It was painful; it took years.
I’m my own witness,
guardian of the fact
that I’m still here.
© 2004, Colette Bryce
From: The Full Indian Rope Trick
Publisher: Picador, London
From: The Full Indian Rope Trick
Publisher: Picador, London
Colette Bryce
(United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, 1970)
Born in Derry in 1970, Colette Bryce lived in London for many years before moving to Scotland in 2002 where she held the fellowship in Creative Writing at the University of Dundee. She moved to Newcastle upon Tyne in 2005 when she was appointed to the North East Literary Fellowship. She now divides her time between there and London in her work as a freelance writer and editor.
Poems
Poems of Colette Bryce
Close
The Full Indian Rope Trick
There was no secretmurmured down through a long line
of elect; no dark fakir, no flutter
of notes from a pipe,
no proof, no footage of it –
but I did it,
Guildhall Square, noon,
in front of everyone.
There were walls, bells, passers-by;
a rope, thrown, caught by the sky
and me, young, up and away,
goodbye.
Goodbye, goodbye.
Thin air. First try.
A crowd hushed, squinting eyes
at a full sun. There
on the stones
the slack weight of a rope
coiled in a crate, a braid
eighteen summers long,
and me –
I’m long gone,
my one-off trick
unique, unequalled since.
And what would I tell them
given the chance?
It was painful; it took years.
I’m my own witness,
guardian of the fact
that I’m still here.
From: The Full Indian Rope Trick
The Full Indian Rope Trick
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