Where I am From


When you buried my shovel

I was left idle, unmasked and thinking

There is no glitter in my well

No gold ‘mong damp and mossy dark

Most ropes would recoil

But these linen plaits graze water

Unfrayed and still and tranquil

As the maple roof and stonework above

Anglo, Roman-Catholic stays

Build ribcages smoother than granite

And flakes of mica without replace

Ingots for those who would clamber within

Some eyes stay bright and guileless through

Trials largely of one’s own making

Rope winding, coiling back to

Where I am from


Based on the prompt “Where I’m from”:

Writing to Freedom

Summoning Magic: A Gypsy’s Tale

Daily Prompt: Childhood Revisited

I wish that in my childhood I had not lost my best friend – in such a way that the blame is to be laid upon both of us.

The first time I saw someone make a post in the form of a letter I felt compelled to write the following letter for my own benefit, since there would be no point in sending it.

To send it, now, would be strange.

Continue reading “Daily Prompt: Childhood Revisited”