A FAREWELL
September sleeps
in
your clementine pores
your cornea
a trapped seed
beneath your fingernail
the hollow of your neck
the nest
the resting place
still warm with orange
blue
the riverbed
its ripples
the frog’s throat
stuck
somewhere
between the leap
and landing
she hides
under rainbow oils
the shadows
beneath the mallard’s beak
in the eyelids of oak trees
the spider’s silk geometry
she inhales
radiance
and drinks from streams
her lungs breed lichen
her blood bleeds green
treading
at dawn with the blackbirds
she snorts cherry blossom dust
weeping
showers of white gold
juice
swallows in the sunrise
she casts
dandelion dreams
and sings
in the whip of a squirrel’s tail
she walks in foxes’ footprints
she swims in
the shine of urine trails
dark puddles
and snail magic
the pulp of squashed flower stems
she counts the tears of ants
and trembles
she sinks in the wrinkles of dry petals
and wishes on whiskers
of hares
she washes in
tendrils
of
smoke
of leaves
the ash heaps
wax and
woodpiles
she hangs on
hay bales
the gleam of beetle wings
the sneezes of mud-covered mice
in empty fields
at dusk
she blows kisses on strawberry palms
she sleeps
in the scratches on your arms
the magpie pecks
in bones
in hair by half burnt leaves
buried
in stone
in sweet lemon goosebumps
in brown earth
sunken.
Lucy graduated with an MA in English Literature from the University of Lincoln in 2020. She currently provides learning support for students in further education and writes in her spare time. She is particularly interested in ecopoetry.