I bring you jays and woodpeckers.
Instead of Mother’s Pride white sand
and turquoise bars, here are
lavender, wild thyme and leggy sage.
In place of Columba’s Bay:
this shrivelled stream, that sunken river.
I bring you bitten fingernails
and scabs across my knuckles
where a rock got in the way.
Also weeding, homework, soap suds,
dead mice, chicken shit,
a henhouse that needs cleaning.
I bring you questions, pleas, refusals, favours
and my mother-in-law’s constant interruptions.
I bring you a paler version of myself.
I bring you eggs.
Instead of gulls by Sharon Black | Sandalwood Poetry Reed Diffuser
Sharon Black is from Glasgow and lives in a remote valley of the Cévennes mountains in France. She has published 4 full collections of poetry, her latest The Last Woman Born on the Island (Vagabond Voices, 2022), exploring Scotland’s culture and heritage, and The Red House (Drunk Muse, 2022), set in her adopted homeland. She is editor of Pindrop Press.
