Poem of the Week: Saphire Rose – ‘Puked Words’

3rd Place
‘Glass’ by E.B Bentley

Cooking up dreams
In a cauldron perched in the dusty rafters of her own mind.
Losing memories
Like a child trying to cup water in their hands
Scared of the woman in the glass who seems to follow her
In a new house where now her husband is her son.
Wondering where the years have gone and the china that is her mother’s favourite.
And the old woman in the glass who finds her in the bathroom
Ghosts and strangers who scare her in equal measure
Misplaced in shattered time which before had paced itself so smoothly
She will always love the beauty of outside
In the garden
By the crystal surface of a pond
Walking along a grainy street she knows, but can’t remember where her home is
She sees the woman in the glass of a shop window
She looks lost and frightened
She is at home now being yelled at like a child by her son
She cowers like a door mouse from the noise in her own head
Crouched by a new scratchy sofa she doesn’t like
She wonders where the chair is where she would sit on her father’s knee
She wants to listen to his stories of the farm
Maybe she will visit her father tomorrow
But no
of course he is dead
Old woman’s hands cradle her face as she cries
Tears drop like breaking crystals
She laughs so hard and then sees nothing is funny
She wants to get out of this house she doesn’t know
She washes up and expects the children home soon
Though of course they will not
it is still dark
She holds a cheery wine glass to the light
The old woman in the glass smiles at her ruefully.