Waiting in the poultry farm
Rusted harrow and piled wood
pulled down years ago
stack against the wind.
Pollinated with snow
the grubby yard transforms.
Old sycamore leaves hang
scribbled on the sky
Chinese against a watery blue.
Snow holds everything in suspension.
Ice still solid at the roots of grass
drips on the stony path.
At the heart of things there is change.
To what run-off will this melting take us?
Visit Bidgid Smith’s blog here
London's only regular event for women writers of all genres.
creative therapeutic writing
Singing in the shallows
Artwork and exhibitions
Freelance writer back on the edge ready to jump!
Writing, Poetry & Creativity | Angela T Carr, Dublin, Ireland
by Jack Monroe, bestselling author of 'A Girl Called Jack'
E.E. Nobbs - poetry and the condition of our condition
Clare's Official Site
Lifesaving Poems
Poetry
"I wanted to read or hear the narrative of someone else – a woman and a poet – who has gone here and been there." (Eavan Boland 1944-2020) 🚫 #VAWG
Welcome to occasional reviews, comments and news from this Leicester, UK based writer of poems, stories and book reviews
for the earth and the animals
A selection of my comics, poetry comics, and other illustration work - All images copyright Julian Peters - contact: info@jpeterscomics.com - Follow me on instagram @julianpeterscomics
Abegail Morley 
Lovely post and lovely piece of writing from Brigid but when you can, maybe she will want her name corrected. With love Caroline
>
Gosh – thanks for pointing that out!! I was so busy worrying if it ended in a t or d I think I went a bit d obsessed.
Wonderful poem
Lovely poem. ‘Chinese against a watery blue’ – such vivid imagery.
A pleasure to read. How snow changes the view as we wish for it to fall.
I’ve been enjoying this poem very much. I grew up on a farm and Brigid uses the rural and seasonal images very effectively to write about the passage of time. Love the first sentence with the rusted harrows & the knocked over woodpile. The past is almost as much of a mystery as the future. We’re always and only can be at that “now” point. Also visited Brigid’s blog. Enjoyed her latest post there so now am following. And the leaf + snow photo is perfect. Thanks.
Enjoyed this, a beautiful and evocative poem
Thank you for all the encouraging comments – and thank you Abigail for posting the poem and putting such a lovely and apposite photograph