rhiannon-clareWhisper

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Parliament HillThere were Chinese lanterns at New Year / when it was so cold the fireworks froze in the air, / bursts of red and silver beside the dazzling lights

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2.5k

This Poem is Not a RecipeFirst, garlic. / Dig your nails into its flaking paper, / pink and beige like magnolia petals parched

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2.4k

Family FolkloreOf all the stories we tell ourselves / late at night / before bed, before sleep

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1k

New North (2009)I looked to the sky and it spelled out your / each gesture, the clouds were your hands, / moving with a silent ease to earth, spilling

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1k

PistachiosIt is hard to get at the green kernel of anything. / Most truths do not lie open and ready, most / must be cracked with the teeth:

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968

Margate, August 2024I take Rowan to pick blackberries. / I knew where they’d be / Up through the allotments beyond the windmill,

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659

OctoberIt is a strange thing this, to consider / the world in hasty whirling throes / of autumnal grace, it walks a yellow

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585

Orison, in grey alpacaA summer evening in late June, light paling into dusk and colours lessen / Rattles from the kitchen as the ritual teas are prepared / I sit making a cardigan for a baby’s birth-

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525

A (Non-Exhaustive) List of Things I Have Thrown Away That I Hope Are Not Waiting for Me Somewhere, Like A Collection of ShameA lone slipper / Diary I wrote aged 18 (Unread, too piercing) / Battered biscuit tin I’d kept for years (in the hope it would prove useful (it didn’t))

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