#poetscorner is a feature in which PTL Editors ask writers to share a poem of theirs with the internet. We also ask them to divulge on how they started writing poetry, what inspired the poem in question and why it remains a personal favourite. The idea being to bask in the glory of the written and/or spoken word. Oh dear…
I did not intend to write something new for my first foray into the marvellous world of PTL. I was going to give you all an old favourite of mine, something I had prepped and primed and teased out over months and months of work. That is what you are supposed to be reading right now. Instead of this, you are reading eight rough pieces of my present mind. I hope you like them.
I have been writing for a long time now. I oscillate between the poles of my experience, sometimes finding words that fight me and sometimes ones that match me, stride for stride. One of the things I love and fear about writing is that you offer somebody else ownership of the sounds that you imply when you fill a page with words. You hand somebody else the power to ghost their breath across the words you wrote and you have to trust that they will take good care of them.
I am quite sure these ones are in good hands.
Sunlight plays havoc with the petals of the morning
Turbulent returns the reckoning of crying tides
And lingering, like supple smoke on shoulder skin
Is what falls through my hands unpaid
The invoice for the quiet days
That I cannot forget
And never knew
Hannah studies Classics at the University of Cambridge…for her sins. She spends her days writing about literature and art and doodling dinosaurs on the margins of her world. If you were to stumble across Hannah at this moment you would probably find her looking very pretentious smoking a shoddy roll-up in a turtle neck. She promises she is more fun than this makes her sound.
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