Makarelle


Spill

by Louise Wilford


There is a yellow lizard in my skull

which darts its scarlet tongue into my plans.

 

Sometimes my eyes flash damsel flies

which settle in the creases of my voice.

 

I hiccup rhododendron flowers,

as sweet as marzipan and tissue-thin,

 

sugary spoondrift, piled against my brow,

forming hassocks for my kneeling thoughts.

 

Where is the cool blue light that once was here?

Where is the granite rock-face, layer on layer,

 

that used to anchor my invention?

That used to hook my harness to the world

 

to stop me spilling?


(2021 - All rights remain with the author) -  Image Credit: Louise Wilford


Author Bio:

Louise Wilford has had many poems and stories published, and has won or been shortlisted for many competitions, most recently winning First Prize in the Arts Quarterly Short Story Competition 2020 and the MereFest Literary Festival Poetry Competition 2020. She completed a Masters in Creative Writing in October 2020, with a Distinction. She is currently working on a fantasy novel for children.

 

Blog: https://louviewsnewscues.blogspot.com/