Hey, it’s Katherine, today I wanted to share with you a poem back from the writer’s house days of learning how to write from commission. This particular poem was a commission that one of our mentors had been asked to do herself. This poem was for Clare Currie’s birthday and we weren’t allowed to include her name or her age anywhere within the poem and we were given an email from her best friend about Clare to help us write about someone we didn’t know well. Enjoy!
Feet, naked and bare
toes wriggling in the mud,
like worms hungry for more,
searching to bury themselves in mother earth’s company
To grow, to decay
Fungus found foraging in fields painted green
Raw beauty is the way she learns
A Queen, with her crown of deer
Shattered and twisted with driftwood splinters
pebbles and pinecones for her fairy tokens
she turns. Stops and stares
Eyes seek eyes, fingers find fingers
She is caught in a secret light that only she leaks.
Back she retreats, back to the home
where bone turns to stone
her arms are branches
an offering to those above.