SENTINEL POETRY #26 Online Magazine Monthly, January 2005
Schools go back and summer reappears
(We didn’t really have one, you see).
Soon caretakers clatter crossly around the place
Still in t-shirts with spanners saying
How you can’t please everyone.
And the heating is on one day,
Not the next.
Now the tiniest wing-like leafy emanations
Are collecting everywhere, none bigger than
A dry skin flake.
They are in the soap and on the bath sponge,
Anywhere within a window’s reach.
Larger leaves begin kerb-crawling
A colour pageant scarcely noticed by adults
Until, perhaps, one day,
A tennis ball-coloured cast-off
From a beech tree leaning chummily close to the road,
Catches the eye, luminous,
And causes the involuntarily movement of a hand,
Reaching, returned to childhood.
Heather Flood is from Glasgow. She had a poem published in the 1980 New Poetry, the PEN anthology, edited that year by Ted Hughes. She had poems published in the eighties in a number of Scottish publications, Renfrew Line being one. In recent years she has focused on prose. She teaches English in a Kent school.