by heather | Nov 18, 2012 | Poems
If I die today, the unborn daughter stays in my cells and books not written lose their grip and all the cakes I never baked remain uneaten. My sister’s baby never lived to meet its aunt, the tragic travelling never happens, the plane flies without this...
by heather | Nov 17, 2012 | Poems
I want someone else to say what a good girl, what a bright light, what a lovely sweet presence … or to hear it in my soul so completely that there is no room for cold. I am looking to be seen as if the mirrors could capture the sun and intensify my need...
by heather | Nov 17, 2012 | Poems
The peasant woman wears black and seems old and might be wise but is certainly afraid. She points to the very narrow door, speaks a terrified warning as if it’s a secret: there is someone screaming behind that. She urges me to flee and so I do, but tell...
by heather | Nov 17, 2012 | Poems
There is no thorn in my foot, for which I am grateful, but a dozen or more small prickles make walking hard … this is the season for soaking my skin, drawing out the miniscule wounds, inviting new cells to play at healing. This day is for wallowing, sand...
by heather | Nov 17, 2012 | Poems
Heal the being with that precious name so that the nameless god-one can dance here, can rumpus in this body, cause a ruckus with this life in unexpected tastes and colours. Let the story of the body-holder shift, draining away like unnecessary nectar or...
by heather | Nov 17, 2012 | Poems
Damn right I am hiding, putting myself in plain view under this cheerful shrug, these tolerant wrinkles … unwilling to clasp hands for a communal dive off the cliff, unwilling to cackle in public or cause the sharp disillusionment of innocents. This...
