Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jade Wright Apr 25
There was this cat-
before I was exclusively a dog person.
He lived in the house next to my Nan’s,
and she said he only ever came into her garden
when I was there-
he sensed me.

I used an old hairbrush
to caress his fur and I
pushed him up and down the warm
concrete in my purple pram.
‘August 1994’ is written on the
back of the clearest photograph of us.

My dungarees are bold
and brazen roses-
his patterns are tangible through
my chubby little hands
both of us have pride on our small faces.
I wish I remembered him.
Jade Wright Jan 17
I am always here
the little girl smiled down
from the oak wardrobe
in his soft silhouette house.
Now pull the covers tighter
Jade Wright Jan 12
The parks are ours
No matter what the signs say
Though the crunch of the woodland
calls from far away
calls us to hunt, to gallop on through
fields, mud and marshes
double-sniff around of favourite lake too.
We pad the tarmac
plod the concrete
whether the sky is day-pink or dusk-black
we will walk together
and sometimes you’ll chat aloud to me
I’ll take in each warm word
even as I feel the oosh of the sea.
Jade Wright Jan 8
I’m a dalmatian in the park this morning
leaping with a grace I can feel

a toddler by midday, splashing
unashamedly into gleeful puddles
red wellies into small pools of sky

a bird by the afternoon
giving the impression I may take flight
as I perch wise on the wall and
stretch my feathers
watching you

a fish by the time the evening is here
paper-light and shining
pretending I am not gasping for air
but I’m gasping
because I know night is coming

And the pretence
Should really be over in time for bed.
Jade Wright Jan 2
I am the light between the naked branches.
You stare out at me for answers
but this is only a slow morning
not a requited prayer
You see the birds, benevolent
and we smile at their freedom.
Jade Wright Jan 1
Lists are what keep me whole
all year round. A jar full of happiness,
chalk board of errands and  
phone notes, reminding me I need bleach.

In 2022, what will I keep?
What gets discarded, what shall I burn?
No, actually let’s stick with discard.
I’ve always been afraid of fire;
I’m a water sign.

Keep:
Humour, for sanity
A helping hand, good karma
Animals and plenty of them
Mum, my arch and armour
Hope
Tea
Books in the bath
The friends who ask me how I am when I’ve forgotten to ask myself.

Discard:
Quite possibly, everything else.

Or, realistically, maybe
the lies. Just the ones about
my feelings.
Jade Wright Apr 2021
Like the moon
a phone cannot capture you.
You’ve never been one to pose
or say ‘cheese’
so I can only hope
that grin
that spark
stays printed in my mind
forever
in the absence of a frame.
Next page