Longlisted Poem 2012
Lizzie Mundell Perkins
Cheney School, Oxford
Morning broke, and the yolk of the sun
slipped over the horizon, over
my window-pressed fingers, window-pressed cheek,
the weary drone of wheels whirring through the seat
where I’m foetally curled.
Coming home to you is like the first day in the world.
Raw and new, the hedgerows white with frost,
three magpies stood, eternally sentinel on the gatepost,
your kisses blinking light
and humming through my fingers.
The flick of passing cars flit shadows
across the warm red embrace behind my closed lids,
into the warm red wet behind my closed lips,
enter the breath of my blood,
the bulb of my heart.
And you awake in bed
with the morning crumpled in your hair,
umbilically sensing the tiny, crying ache in my bones.
Embryonic, the clouds part for the sunshine,
and I catch myself searching for a rainbow.
© Lizzie Mundell Perkins
- Date January 13, 2015
- Tags 2012 Voyages - Longlisted Poems