I feel so pleased and honoured to be part of this first issue. Read the back story to the creation of this lovely publication and you will see why. Thank you Kate and Bonnie.
Curtains remain drawn, as day comes with rain
like a returning memory. In darkness, early moments
rest on heavy eyes, closed to a wave of sickness.
In the residue of cracked ashtrays and stale alcohol,
sit diary entries of dissolute nights with succubae;
a debt of bad shillings that smothers and oppresses.
With a switchclick of artificial light, a three-quarter
circular tea stain on the old and damaged veneer
of a bedside table screams normality.
But the mundane hides chaos. The dark refocuses,
squats on the body amid the morning’s silent rage
and dusty sheets of this year’s end chapters.
And yet, the Sun at winter solstice still rises,
to move again at the end of a pendulum swing
towards the promise of late spring’s trick of light;
bodies aloft after months and miles of migration,
an ache in the chest for remembered summers,
anticipating the welcome return of African visitors.
And thoughts of sky as host to arrowed shrieks,
the speed of mameluke sabred wings
cutting air curves with ridiculous precision,
will slice through this wintered condition,
lift the darkness of a season’s sadness
and ease this overbearing debt,
that I might breathe again.
Published: Bonnie’s Crew (Issue #1 February 9th 2019)