Rosie Breese

 

 

Solstice

 

The longest night. The moon

sways close on its string.

 

We decorate the bed

with figments of light –

 

tinselly bodies drop sparks

on the carpets, the sheets.

 

The earth tilts. The stars dip

near enough to waste on our tongues.


 

Rosie Breese has been a bad musician, an events organiser, a champagne waitress and a civil servant. Her work has appeared in nthposition Agenda, Poetry Wales and Poetry Review.

 

 

One comment

  1. “Bad musician” or not, Rosie certainly knows how to convey meaning thru the short poem. I’ll make a wager your sounds are not as bad as you think. Music, akin to poem-making and loving another being, takes endless work. Good, Rosie!

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