"Do you guess I have some intricate purpose?
Well I have... for the April rain has, and the mica on the side of a rock has." - Walt Whitman
Mica - a mineral. It glitters, like a crumb you want to pick up.
Books launch and reading held at The Poetry Society's Poetry Café 16 October 2017
She feels it ripening
within her and growing
like an unplanned being.
When this being is born
earth and sky will crackle
as when flames catch fences,
or seed-pods, dehiscent,
crack, and their heart scatters:
pale wings in a rainfall.
- from Certain Roses