Chrissy Banks



If you don’t come back

I will turn to the woods.
To winter woods
trees rising above
their heap of leaves.
I’ll turn to the hills that endure
rain, flood, fog, snow and storm
the worst winds and fires of full sun.
I will follow the river that keeps on
flowing, keeps on carrying
pike and trout and stickleback
despite its sinkage of stones.
I’ll turn to the garden
and watch how it dies
then grows; to the swift visits
of winking-winged brimstones
the patient journeys of ants.
And I will turn to the sea
the sea that will rumble me
slap me awake, holding
its mirror to my face.
I’ll look to the waves’ rise and fall
moon-pulled, thrown by wind
into foam. Even to the cold
deep seaspots, where I can stand
alone, till I’m blue boned.



Chrissy Banks lives in Exeter. Her last collection was Days of Fire and Flood and another, The Uninvited, is forthcoming this year from Indigo Dreams. She has had poems in many magazines and anthologies, including And Other Poems, Antiphon, the Rialto, Orbis, the North, South and Agenda.

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