Clare Martin
Blessing
.
.
…has nested in you.
Hatched, the chick
levers out every unborn egg
you’d been tending all this time.
You know something’s amiss
but you keep feeding
this stranger. By the time it’s full grown
you know you’ve been tricked. Still
you keep flying with your mouthfuls
of wriggling grubs, tasting
the meal you long for
even as you bow down
into that endless red throat. Now
here it is, standing
in the hollow bones of you,
singing.
.
…has nested in you.
Hatched, the chick
levers out every unborn egg
you’d been tending all this time.
You know something’s amiss
but you keep feeding
this stranger. By the time it’s full grown
you know you’ve been tricked. Still
you keep flying with your mouthfuls
of wriggling grubs, tasting
the meal you long for
even as you bow down
into that endless red throat. Now
here it is, standing
in the hollow bones of you,
singing.
.
.
Clare Martin is Co-Director of St Ethelburga’s Centre for Reconciliation and Peace. Her poetry has appeared or is forthcoming in Acorn, Presence, Tsuri-Doro, Kingfisher, Hedgerow, The Heron’s Nest, Blithe Spirit and Modern Haiku, among others. She holds an MA in Creative Writing from UEA.
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