Samantha’s Daily Poem
A miscarriage of justice
The news today is full
of abhorrent crimes
my legs tremble
an undertow
of disbelief.
But the stories are less
about the duct tape
and the children
it is the fury of innocence
that stokes the headlines.
A miscarriage of justice
they scream.
As though justice
had been there all along
a single clear truth
waiting
to be carried
all the way to the end
expecting
to be protected.
A miscarriage
a spontaneous loss
who do we mourn
the children who are
no more
or justice
who it turns out
is as fragile
as us.
Part innocent
Green seaweed
hangs near the corner
of her mouth.
She is seven
chubby
unaware.
She eats her chips
alone as the sun
sets and her mother cares
for the younger ones
and the sea
crawls up the beach.
The children around us
splash and shriek
part innocent
part threatening.
I know in my bones
if anyone is mean to her
I will be ferocious
when I tell her
I am proud
to sit beside her.
But I must go now
and the impossibility
of protecting her
is enough
to make me weep.
All is forgotten
He is ten months old
she is older
but short.
He touches her face
tenderly at first
then as though
it is a ball
and it occurs to him
to throw it.
She cries
he stares
she forgives him
they bond
over a mutual fascination
with a water bottle.
He touches her face again
temporarily
devoted.
She lets him
all is forgotten
and I wonder
at the blunt wisdom
of the young
before the echo
of inhibition
starts ringing
in our ears.
Ode to the mosquito
Tiny fighter jet
you torpedo past my ear
desperate and brave
they say you see our heat
throbbing bait
nectar skin
you are so thirsty
little blood robber
I let you sip me
just this once
I watch as you inhale me
your infatuation
astoundingly sweet.
Ode to the blackberry bush
She never sleeps
she burrows
and claws her way
under and around
relentless
strangling
the dirt
thorny temptress
with black
sweet
lips
she spreads
like a plague
don’t stand still
or she will bind
your feet
to the earth.
