Unthreaded – Rachel Cunniffe


Pearls spill in to
the frosty pavement.
I grip the remains
in my ungloved fist.
From now on I resolve never
to wear antique jewellery
around my neck.

A stranger will flirt with me
the way the skimmed milk moon
does with intoxicated clouds,
flattered, uncertain,
taking note.
The night air condenses,
like alcohol, optimistic.

On New Years Day
before the light fades
I begin my search,
my boots bite softly
into the hard white frost.
If I slip as I walk
it will be on a pearl


Rachel Cunniffe is based in the North East of  England and has  written a  wide range of  poetry  since being a teenager, has a MA in Writing Studies gained in 1995 from Edgehill University College.

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