I've been enjoying Elsa Cross's work for some years now, thanks to Anamaría Crowe Serrano and Shearsman Books. Here are some favourite passages from this collection:
Like a crab the heat draws its pincers closer.
*
The east wind is heard,
the metal of goat bells,
cicadas:
the incipient polyphony of summer.
from 'Stones'
Movement--
the last vowel
reverberates in the ear.
*
Ah! Metaphors,
those liars.
*
The afternoon is getting drunk
on its endless greenery,
setting its oxygens alight
at summer's end.
*
In enclosed courtyards
the light seems to rise from a hidden well;
desires gleam--
such is the accumulated transparency.
*
The chunks of bread
an old man throws at the water
disappear inside fishes' mouths--
leaving circles that still sparkle
in the evening light.
Then he throws out bait.
The castle,
golden in colour,
becomes a melancholy stain.
*
The sun is going down.
The bay fills with feline trembling.
*
Unintelligible echoes
and in their hollows
the surf of your name.
from 'Waves'