Saturday, October 29, 2016

Sarah St Vincent Welch #290 Skin

the skin of the house is rough
it scrapes
it scrapes your forearm and elbow
on your errand
how familiar
your skin is now my skin
our errands folding through time
taking out the garbage
fetching the forgotten things


  1. I really enjoy the connection/tension you have between your photos and poems.

  2. Haunting poem, Sarah. Reminds me of something Dorothy Hewett says in her autobiography *Wild Card*: 'The first house sits in the hollow of the heart, it will never go away. It is the house of childhood become myth, inhabited by characters larger than life whose murmured conversations whisper and tug at the mind.'

  3. Thank you! T he photos has been a surprise to me, another point of sparking or finding an external reference for a poem, and the is a beautiful quote Robbie. Glad the poem suggested a childhood home, it was/is/that exactly.


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