Lotis

1

A voice
scratches
her
ear:

Come
here,
petal.

Later:
a red stain.

She doesn’t cry.
She washes the sheets
and does the dishes.

2

The back door opens
onto a blank night.

A gull shrieks like Mr Punch.

Her blood is daughter
to the sea.

—–

This poem was written for Transformations, a new take on Ovid’s Metamorphoses.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s