'The British Museum' (2006) - Celia Paul
On Celia Paul's 'The British Museum' (1996)
"where mauve shadows move;,"
Whether images or words can ever match each other, this poem is a truly fine conjurement of a painterly dream and, again in this book, of 'the plasticity of time'.
And if it can rain in a museum, one wonders if the past scries us as much as we scry it? [Cf "I am always reading the rain" from 'Psammomancy'.] 'Shades', too, each a word's reflection.
EXCERPT from my review OF 'STAR KITES' by Mark Valentine (TARTARUS BOOKS)