trout

Scherenschnitte (The craft of papercutting)

Serie Barford

scherenschnitte requires a steady hand

fumbling trepidation must be stilled
as stories are sliced into parchment

I'll wield the blade like moths in a wardrobe
nibbling skylights into sun-starved textiles

so let this chest of drawers be my narrative

in the first drawer you'll discover a bowl of salt
each grain connecting my blood to the ocean

in the second drawer there's a spinning spider
to remind me these islands are threaded to stars

in the third drawer there's my children's birthcries
coupled with the imprint of love in full bloom

in the fourth drawer you'll find a centipede
the length of the scar fusing my faltering heart

in the fifth drawer there's my dog Sirius
standing with me where the old tides meet
our toes digging into sand and our voices
crying out to the dark side of the moon

in the sixth drawer is Mary Betham's wedding ring
secure on her great-grandaughter's pale finger

and the seventh drawer houses my inspiration:
a shaman of visions, leaves from a banyan tree
a descendant from the mountain and a black rainbow

so open and close these drawers with care
for my long fingers are tired and apt to tangle
with the blade creating this narrative

and the parchment's fragile and easily torn