Great George Street by Ginny Darke


Loop around the corner to the accidental narrative

of the garden. Small bowls flourish

into what I think could be a tree.

perhaps a single tree, at least a single tree.


Body forth the snapping twigs like an orchestra.

A woman with god on a leash sits beside me.

And here comes the milkman.


Her voice is calm, she’s been here before.

The woman's name is Bessie

‘Bessie,’ the women voice repeats, which I have now

recognized as crows, in the shape of a woman. 


And perhaps now I don't recognize myself.

The garden is almost full

and there are small children playing.


I had to walk out to the street to check-

it was raining a beautiful rain.

The water from the river trickles past my face.

I could hear it, as far as the trees were tall.


___________


Ginny Darke is a Welsh poet, artist, and student of English Literature based in Bristol, U.K. Her writing has been shortlisted for both the Foyle Young Poets award (2018) and Creative Futures award (2019 and 2020). Her work has been published with Poetry Northern Ireland, The Remnant Archive and Ink, Sweat and Tears.