Imagining a Changed Place
If it’s me that ends up alone
at our breakfast table
I’ll still eat an apple, slowly baked
the night before, with honeyed
nuts in yogurt. But I’ll focus on the wren
outside, finding tiny fragrant
spiders tucked up in rosemary
blooms – and when she sings, I’ll watch
her nebule of breath
evaporate.
I will set your chair
far enough back – for you to fill it.
In 2017 Margaret Adkins’ poems featured in The Fat Damsel, Algebra of Owls and three anthologies: This Is Not Your Final Form (Emma Press) A Bee’s Breakfast (Beautiful Dragons Press) and Physic Garden (Palewell Press). She had a poem commended in the Welshpool Poetry Competition.
Reblogged this on Polly and commented:
Beautiful poetry from Margaret Adkins—thanks ATRIUM
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Gorgeous
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