Mother’s Day
Blood, in shifts
unravelling me to a dry core
where certainty has a home
if it has any. The dwellers
have left to their own meander
gathering life in confusion and
creating their own displays. My colours
blench in each new reflection forcing
me to monochrome
incrementally.
Gillian Prew lives in Scotland. She has a philosophy degree and a succession of low-paid, menial jobs to her credit. Some of her poems can be found at Eviscerator Heaven, Up the Staircase, The Glasgow Review, Eleutheria, The Recusant, Heavy Bear and Counterexample Poetics. She is responsible for three collections of poems. She likes coffee and crows.
Another fine pick.
ReplyDeleteGillian is great.
Love the ending to this one "...monochrome incrementally."