Journal » Trout 17 » Instructed To Write A Poem Called Home [Mary Macpherson]
   «       10       11       12       13       14    15    16       17       18       19       »   


Instructed to write a poem called Home

Mary Macpherson

Confused little teaspoon of thoughts, measured against
the picturesque void you claimed was the sky.
Roused from its battered wooden drawer, the spoon
rejected oceans and fire, but struggled for alternatives.
You suggested ferns or flax – though you could barely
identify them – an indigenous design or two, skin
from a sheep, et cetera; concentrated medicine
with a dash of bitterness to immunise against flirty lifts.
Yet, pedants insisted the brew originated elsewhere
like pendants themselves with roots deep
in the fertilised earth. Undeterred, you squinted,
lifted the mirror and called it, "At home".


 « contents » 
© Copyright 2012 Mary Macpherson & Trout.