Last Night…

Last night,
the moon was back outside my window
after a week away –
body bloated and milk-white.

Tonight,
the clouds are thick and heavy
and I cannot see her face.

I imagine her perfectly round
and pregnant,
like a splash of batter
or a drop of cream.

By Rebecca L. Atherton

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Comfortable & @ Peace


 
 
Clean and unpolluted,
white is without pressure:
it does not exert
or seek to detract.

Rather,
it simply sits:
comfortable
and at peace.

by Rebecca L. Atherton
 


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Prayer Work


 
Sometimes…

writing a poem
in your head

and then releasing
it unremembered

is the bravest thing you can do.

By Rebecca L. Atherton

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Cold, dead and dark.

I sew with limited visibility, trusting that my thread will be led the old-fashioned way by the abundance of natural flame dancing before me in an old jar, long shadows flickering across the table’s surface like spiders legs and winter branches or ageing crone feet.

Icy; cold: it makes for poor physical company, channelling chills into my palms and fingers, up my arms and into my head and neck each time I let my limbs connect. Like my mother with her carefully painted face and colour-coded outfits: it’s all for show. Behind the veil, inside, it’s a different story: cold, dead and dark.

by Rebecca L. Atherton


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SAD / sad /


 
1. Sad: a word, a whisper, my body throwing out distant echoes from within.
2. Sad: a baby crying, a lonely heart, an abandoned daughter.
3. Sad: a despondent mind and spirit, a thing of little worth; a dull, somber colour.
4. S.A.D: a mental disorder; depressive episodes during certain times of the year.

Feelings, thoughts, emotions…
All individual, independent, truth.

Another line.
Another journey.
More fabric touched.

by Rebeca L. Atherton


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Grrr… 


 
My boyfriend is like an angry dog.

Sometimes,this is useful…

by Rebeca L. Atherton


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Care Instructions


 
Store in a cool dry place
away from direct sunlight.

Once opened, keep refrigerated
and consume within two days.

by Rebeca L. Atherton


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Miscellaneous


 
A bent pin,
rainbow thread,
burnt umber:
stitching today.

A fly bothering me.
Cleaning my whiskers.
Remembering that men can be kind.

by Rebecca L. Atherton


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He

Inhabiting the space
between the shade and the light,
he was never truly able
to move freely.

by Rebecca L. Atherton

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Collateral Damage

 

Clouds hug the buildings above her head, oppressive in their proximity. Smoke permeates the air from a shop that has caught fire across the street.

Yesterday it rained hard enough for branches to fall from the trees and washing that had dried to become wet.

Today the sun is out and even though it hasn’t yet escaped the clouds, there is the promise of heat.

by Rebecca L. Atherton

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