Garden of the Lost Souls

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
One of the poems from my forthcoming collection, to be published by Survivors' Poetry,

Submitted: December 02, 2011

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Submitted: December 02, 2011

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Garden of the lost souls

Home is a place I can't find,
a fiction where people drink tea,
talk about their feelings and the future.
The genetically connected share in-jokes
at a plastic Arthurian garden table.

Shunning the forced bonhomie of a barbecue,
avoiding burnt offerings of economy burgers
and cheap Bavarian lager, I hide behind
the rickety shed, communing with fairies.
My friends fold tiny wings over my ears
to protect me from the ramblings of a drunken
uncle. Mother doesn't notice her missing child,
she's busy flirting with a distant cousin.

Strange fruit occupy twisted branches
of our dysfunctional family tree.

Magical creatures can take me to a land
of love and light. A purple-winged male
helps me tie a complicated knot
while a green girl covers me in magic dust
and whispery caresses. Step off.

I fly with the fairies. Dad burns the sausages.

This family schism, an abyss I swing over
at the end of my skipping rope.



© Copyright 2017 Clare Hill. All rights reserved.

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