Underwater, Slow

The Guardian is running a monthly poetry workshop: they get noted UK poets to write a column on a topic and then pose an exercise for readers. This month's poet is Matthew Sweeney: you can read his exercise here.

The gist of it: write a dramatic poem using a first line from Scottish poet WS Graham.

Imagine a forest
sleeping in tree dreams
vast, emerald, underwater-slow.

Translucent insects whisper
from bush to dry bush
in the close shade
breathless.

Far overhead
the treetops ripple
feeling the hot breeze—

there’s heat at the roots where the red tongues creep
branches begin to shake and writhe in agony
silent vegetable screams thicken the smoky air
quick scarlet hands rip the green gauze
crush the glass-flies to slag and ash
storm of light races through the canopy
birds fall like burning meteors!

Seeds fall on bare black earth
awaiting rain.