Shopping list


Bread, potatoes, onions.

Do you remember the ramsons

in ragley wood?

The rain came down

and blessed them for us

you fell in the river

baptising yourself with laughter.

Eggs, milk, honey.

I struggled to suckle our newborn

yet you made me feel like a queen.


No, I still can’t bring them to my lips

the last fruit we picked

before winter.

How do I reconcile your absence

from the groves,

your heat from my bed?

The brambles still prick

where they pierced your finger,

birds still call where we lay.

Time passes.

Sweet woodruff nests in my hair,

fieldfares sleep in my ears,

blankets of moss veil my eyes,

foxgloves grow out of my fingers.

Time passes.




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