Prose & Poetry

welcome home, starling

you are safe now

Almanack

Almanack

 I.

 

Yesterday they planted you —

Scattered your grey seeds

In black earth, sinking

Silence into dry soil,

                               murmuring

Of white roots and sprouting

Pips; the cored heart of the apple.

Now you are twisting milk-skinned life out

Of the darkness, spreading,

                                               soundless

As the wind shaking

Hands with the long, wet grass.

 

II.

 

They planted you a year ago —

How many eyes have grazed your

branches?

Sometimes, shamefaced, I forget the date.

 

I consult my almanack; tomorrow will be

Palm day, fig Sunday.      A good day

For scattering

ashes.

 

We make the red dirt richer, ready.

 

Soon it will be planting time.

 

Phyllida lives in London, where she is studying English literature. She can be found wherever coffee is sold.

A Lesson in Forgiveness

A Lesson in Forgiveness

And Orpheus Died

And Orpheus Died