Nov 2018
and they are ready to pull,
a crew of pinkish wands
sprouting from the ground,
clouds of green
flecked with mulberry veins,
the soil quite soggy
from last night’s rain,
grass tickled silver,
pewter-rippled sky.
I grab the first,
press down, listen
to the burst of a crackle
like the spine of a book,
tug it out
as if a tooth.
When I carry them
to the kitchen I think
of the crumble to come,
the smell, the spoon
diving in, exhuming a pool
of amethysts beneath.
a crew of pinkish wands
sprouting from the ground,
clouds of green
flecked with mulberry veins,
the soil quite soggy
from last night’s rain,
grass tickled silver,
pewter-rippled sky.
I grab the first,
press down, listen
to the burst of a crackle
like the spine of a book,
tug it out
as if a tooth.
When I carry them
to the kitchen I think
of the crumble to come,
the smell, the spoon
diving in, exhuming a pool
of amethysts beneath.
Written: November 2018.
Explanation: A poem written in my own time for university. Feedback welcome. Please note that title is the more technical term for rhubarb. A link to my Facebook writing page can be found on my HP home page.
Explanation: A poem written in my own time for university. Feedback welcome. Please note that title is the more technical term for rhubarb. A link to my Facebook writing page can be found on my HP home page.
