Live Encounters Poetry & Writing Volume Four November-December 2024
Sparkle In Birmingham, poems by Olivia Longe.
Sparkle In Birmingham
On the moonchair, the cat stretches languidly,
muscles slack from too much sunshine through the window.
Fat stomach bellows contentedly beneath a fine fiery pelt.
Only a scant scrap of excitable orange and white,
when dubbed Sparkle by my daughters.
We picked him up from a young family, somewhere in Birmingham.
A dreck damp Saturday, at a crushing grey house,
out of the pale arms of three children,
dressed only in their underwear, at two o’clock in the afternoon.
Were they playing a game?
My eldest asked, comforting the mewling ball in the back of the car.
How to tell a six-year-old?
Those children likely had no clothes, because they were all in the wash.
I hesitate to explain, she settles for a mumbled ‘maybe’.
In Silence
Air-drifts, like soft warm breath, meander through the open frame,
bearing sweet, pungent garlic from below.
Extractor fans whine on the roof, while sirens exclaim,
reminders the world still beats.
Stuck in this laboured moment,
downcast eyes, face contorting,
a struggle.
Allow the pain to kick free from the depths,
to gasp in the light,
or beat it with a shovel, let it sink for good.
Nasal exhalation alerts, a decision made.
No declaration follows,
just eyes met with soft gaze and twist of lips,
acknowledges something happened.
A scant downy feather catches the light,
it lands, improbable, on my foot.
I notice two more plumes have settled beneath your chair,
as though the world whispered and bore them forward as a sign.
Thoughts of white wings arise, dread untethered.
© Olivia Longe
Olivia Longe originally from Clare, but via a long rambling detour in the UK, now resides in North County Dublin. She is a member of the Argillan Creative Writers group and likes to write prose as well as poetry.
Lovely writing, Olivia. Well done