Monday, 13 March 2017

2 poems by Claire Walker

Two Birds Join Me for Coffee


They must have heard the whistle of the kettle,
a sound, as if from their own beaks,
to signal an elevenses rest.

When I sat down at the kitchen table
those sparrows offered their chirping conversation,
tame as if I’d set a cup and saucer for them both.

As they cased the rafters for a nesting site
I could believe the room was airy,
that I too had feathers and a beakful of song. 

At the door I hoped their notes were promises
to return soon. As they flew higher than the roof
I felt the pinch of my own clipped wings.





Claire Walker’s poetry has appeared in magazines, anthologies and websites including The Interpreter’s House, Ink Sweat and Tears, Prole, And Other Poems, and The Chronicles of Eve. Her first pamphlet, The Girl Who Grew Into a Crocodile, is published by V. Press.


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Previously published on 12/01/2016

Under the Elm Tree

For Mary Anning

The sky fizzes,
sends bolts across its grey weight,
finds the easiest route to earth.

Under the elm tree
three women wait out the storm,
shelter under forked branches.

The sky is wilier
than they imagine. It snaps
anarchic fingers, strikes them dead.

Their arms hold a baby.
Sheltered by the stilled bodies,
she breathes anew.

A dull child until this rebirth.
See her eyes now conduct lightning.
See how she exhales electricity.



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