Poetry Drawer: Rook by Kezia Cole

i liked the way my arms bent
around the weight of a world not mine
i liked the angles of my wrist bones
moulded for consistency
there was nothing sharp
in my mountain shapes
we made monoliths of the present
to carry into what might become.

we built a castle on the sea
an impenetrable hull
of stone that wouldn’t sink
or bend to the tug of the waves.

strong straight lines
and five year plans
knowing where you want to be
is fine if an eye on the horizon
brings it close
but curvature doesn’t
take account of the storms.

still i liked the simplicity
in that predictable back and forth
my bones could take
the heavy salt
laid in your tracks
and our waters
always had that heady
quayside scent
that’s born of decay;

sulphide lungs
bleached wood
and bladderwrack hair
made bodies on the sand

i rose from the wreckage
when the castle sank
and spread like grit
to the wind
no more built on froth-rimed swell
nor shackled to the same tide

no more a tower
doomed to spoil
nor fall beneath the waves.

This poem is taken from Kezia’s first full length collection, solipsist: poems for breaking bonds, (Moonshade Publishing), a volume of free verse themed around personal experiences with abuse, trauma, depression/anxiety, and progressing through healing from toxic and unhealthy relationships.

Kezia Cole is an author, poet, artist, and freelance editor, mostly found dividing time between the wilds of southwest England and the mountains of northeast Pennsylvania. Scribbler of words, dauber of paint, and fighter against chronic illness, Kezia is also a passionate animal welfare advocate, and fosters rescue dogs. Work has been featured in prose anthologies, mixed media exhibitions, and on national radio. She is also an Open University alum 🙂

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