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through - a poem


At last, a new poem. I'm trying to get back to what's important for me - not that the petition and campaigning aren't important, but the balance has slipped for a while, and it shows on the blog.

One of the distractions has been putting my house on the market. A sign went up yesterday, and there's been loads of sorting and tidying. Unsettling, exciting, and the poem is partly about moving on.

Do leave a comment. Thanks for reading.


rainspots.  a weedburner fires a slow path through dandelions, 

wild strawberry plants.   they’ve crept towards light through gravel. 

till now they’ve travelled, held their place.  I track the burner, 

sit among smoke-mists, retreat when flames roast leaf-tips, 

take shelter when rain hushes the fire. 

roots grip and char.   they’ll grow a newborn form.


we may all mend ourselves, come back and go. 

the shapes we choose, the shapes that form us, burn  

till one slow shapelessness goes beyond shapes, 

disperses into deeper elements.


from those who leave us   -   now to taking leave. 

an imprint, shadow on still-moving shapes behind.


open doors.  clean.  burn.  shine.

know every moment.   there’s more to understand.









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4 Comments


Beautiful poem. I feel very fortunate to be able to read your words, I admire your writing very much.


I didn't know you could get a weed burner ... So much better than poisons

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Chris
Chris
Jun 25

Beautiful as always Maxine. You use for reference so eloquently those small things that go unnoticed by so many. x


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Lovely fragmented and sensory. Keep writing dear Maxine xxx And good luck with the move

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Very sensory poem, imagining myself in your garden and watching the changing shapes from the fire xx

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