Jim
Squashed inside the shed,
six of us – The Invited.
The club is in full swing.
We’re up to our tricks,
pin-pricked skin: Blood Sisters.
On a shelf, cigarettes
from my mother’s pack
sit like Snow-Queen fingers
alongside a bottle of lemonade laced with gin.
Rat-a-tat on the door.
My father’s voice,
crab-apple sharp.
Where’s Jim?
Pins and blood-soaked tissues
shoved into an empty plant pot.
Inside my sleeve, tobacco tendrils.
Only my brother has my father’s attention.
Are we holding a secret,
hiding Jim?
He’s found quickly
in the neighbour’s garden,
lost in a game of make-believe.
For a moment, I imagine myself missing –
Belinda Rimmer has worked as a psychiatric nurse, counsellor, lecturer and creative arts practitioner. Her poems have appeared in magazines, for example, Brittle Star, Dream Catcher, ARTEMISpoetry and Obsessed with Pipework. Her poem ‘water’ won the Poetry in Motion Competition and was turned into a film and shown internationally. Website: belindarimmer.com @belrimmer
atriumpoetry.com 
Even though I am a forbidden boy, I felt like I was in the shed with the girls.
Excellent and evocative!
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