THE FROGMORE POETRY PRIZE 2014

Beth Somerford

FOR THE CHILDREN

our tale is tight-wound
like helices
of beaded code

it holds a thread
as who we are slips
from her to her to her

it is a ball of twine
wound tight like a child
knotting her limbs invisible

it is a plait of umbilical cord
like a wet twist of laundry;
a toy hoop

it is the dotted shipping line
across an atlas page
taking us 'home'

a string of bread medallions,
or memories;
a photograph, a recipe, a coat

it is the ring of our arms
as we dance
because we must

or a faded tailor's tape
its marks so faint
that each side seems the same

it is a looped story
a bandage
a mobius strip

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