Hold Fire
I wonder if you’re there at your window
watching the world find its eyes,
where the lambs used to roam free
on the best natural playground?
The nettle paths you steered me clear of
the berry feasts I couldn’t eat.
We used to walk to grow ideas,
until the builders shovelled our peace.
Are you there now, reading this?
It’s different you tell me:
clattering noise has shattered glass −
a slice in moist eyes.
I must stop. I don’t mean to upset
but I thought of you last night −
a blazing sunset fixed sparks in my eyes.
Did you see?
We’d always marvel holding our breath.
They can’t take the sky.
Look out of your window and I will mine −
together, we can hold fire.
Julie Stevens writes poems that cover many themes, but often engages with the problems of disability. She has two published pamphlets: Quicksand (Dreich 2020) and Balancing Act (Hedgehog Poetry Press, 2021). Her next pamphlet, Step into the Dark, will be published by Hedgehog Poetry Press.
Black Nore Review 