Song a Year After My Mother’s Death | Carrie Etter

I allowed a small song
to nestle between my breasts.
It was furtive, a ground squirrel
occasionally checking the wind.

I thought it could not grow
on wine and despair. It didn’t.
On the one sunny day in a rainy month,
it basked.

It took on colour: peacock blue
shimmering like sunlit sea. I feared
it would strut. I watched
it fly forth

afraid of no one, no one
but me.

 

American expat Carrie Etter’s third and most recent collection, Imagined Sons (Seren, 2014)was shortlisted for the Ted Hughes Award for New Work in Poetry, from The Poetry Society (UK). Her poems have appeared in Boston Review, The New RepublicIowa Review, and The Times Literary Supplement, among many others, and she has been a member of the creative writing faculty at Bath Spa University since 2004.

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