and all their stumpy pots?
the clays that doffed their cap
to every morning’s weather
the mounded nubs of roofline
perches for indiscriminate birds
the swirl in each child’s sketch
their smoke signalled autumn
the burn of the air said evening’s come
spelt back-to-school again’s begun
already and soon, they’ll say no more
empty mouths, flues, no fired-up bellies
their time brushed up, gone to ground
by a new day’s light we'll see them off
bury them well in our memory pit
draw up long plumes that bend to breath
Jemma Walsh is an Irish poet based in South East London. She is a graduate of Russian and Classics from Trinity College Dublin and currently doing a Masters in Creative and Life Writing at Goldsmiths College. Her work has been published in several print and online literary journals.
the clays that doffed their cap
to every morning’s weather
the mounded nubs of roofline
perches for indiscriminate birds
the swirl in each child’s sketch
their smoke signalled autumn
the burn of the air said evening’s come
spelt back-to-school again’s begun
already and soon, they’ll say no more
empty mouths, flues, no fired-up bellies
their time brushed up, gone to ground
by a new day’s light we'll see them off
bury them well in our memory pit
draw up long plumes that bend to breath
Jemma Walsh is an Irish poet based in South East London. She is a graduate of Russian and Classics from Trinity College Dublin and currently doing a Masters in Creative and Life Writing at Goldsmiths College. Her work has been published in several print and online literary journals.
