New poem from Lesley Saunders

Lesley’s read on a number of occasions at Days of Roses events, in between writing wonderful collections, including Her Leafy Eye from Two Rivers Press and No Doves from Mulfran. She’s been nominated for the Forward Prize for best single poem, won the Manchester Poetry Prize and collaborated with artists, musicians and, for the collection Christina The Astonishing, Jane Draycott. It’s a great pleasure to post a poem from her today.


So, as he said, the key to it all
is the rhythm, the walking uphill,

the steps in the wall, the knock
in the blood, the knocking on wood

which is the pumping of sap, the sob
in the heart or sump of the forest

unlocking the roots, releasing the green.
And, as he said, it is also a matter of flow:

how we monitor the breathing
by our own mornings and evenings

and as well when it’s in danger
of stopping, so we can work to insert a line

or whole stanza of air like a prayer for mercy,
the daily psalms of statin and aspirin –

and listening hear the pulse again like a verse,
and watching see the look on the face

of someone coming round from a dream.

Visit Lesley’s own site

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