13 May 2012

Released Poem 2: Jigsaw


The kitchen floor is cold.
It aches my legs.
A girl is scattered
all around:
eyes, arms, fingers,
wispy hair.
Mummy’s high above me,
watching sky,
paddling clouds of bubbles
with her hands.

And suddenly – did I do that? –
the girl’s joined up.

It’s magic
like the yellow kitchen cupboard
with the bathroom
through its back.

I’m bigger now

bigger than

Sally Douglas 

7 May 2012

Released Poem 1: Reunion


Remember summer. Hours
of slanting sun
rising like a lever, hot
and long enough to move a world.
All the way to breaktime
its dry tide rose behind me,
scorching the slow fields of morning
until all the paths were gone.

You’d pop the silver top down
with your thumb,
post the straw and suck
your milk.

I’d hold back, hold breath:
gauging the heat-gap’s smallest slenderness
between warm glass, damp skin.
Feel the clotting of my throat.

If you were here
       you might
          remember this.

Sally Douglas

6 May 2012

Released From Captivity

Sitting on the hard drive of my computer are hundreds of abandoned, unsubmitted poems, shut away there in the dark cage of Windows files. They are mostly not poems I would write now - some are really quite old - but occasionally I get them out and tinker with them, cut out a few words, move a comma, put the comma back where it was in the first place...  And this is not a productive use of time! So I've decided to post a few of them here - abandon them in a more public place in the hope that they will be content with that, and let me get on with writing some new ones.

Watch this space: poems will be appearing soon, blinking in the unaccustomed light. Some might come limping out, but hopefully a few might feel up to hopping. There might even be the odd one which attempts to fly.