Conversations

Going to the shop
to buy more lemons
the wind riffles my hair

tells me a dirty joke
gleaned from old papers
blown along the street

we laugh together
are still laughing
when I walk home

put the lemons
into an azure bowl

winter sunshine
across the window sill

put the rest
into a lemon cake
on a Kosta plate

chrysanthemums
brushed around the rim
by an unknown hand

a message in a rare language –
until today,
untranslated.

© Helen Lowe

Published in The Christchurch Press, 2009

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Last week I was the guest editor on the Tuesday Poem Hub, where I featured “VA Hospital Confessional” by US poet Brian Turner, from his 2010 collection Phantom Noise (Bloodaxe.) You may read the poem and my commentary by clicking here.

But because “VA Hospital Confessional” is very much war poetry, today I thought I’d post one of my own poems, which is possibly the quintessence of ‘domestic’ poetry. Both themes, I feel, have their place, and need to have their place, if poetry is to be an art that is part of the fabric (the ‘textured tapestry’, of course! ;-)) of our lives.

To read the featured poem on the Tuesday Poem Hub and other great poems from fellow Tuesday poets from around the world, click here or on the Quill icon in the sidebar.