Three Poems by Claire Crowther

Paper Pattern

When I was laid under our lilac

not much made…

When I was laid under our lilac

(being born in May)

all the pattern was in my body.

I opened my eyes to rough leaves

blowing apart and broken.

Now I hold a leaflet

of shape with a picture and how to make it,

now I can read the pattern on paper

and try to make…

and every evening lay it down

not much made…

Flock

I want the inheritance

of shared hair.

I want the inheritance

of practicalities.

The knitting machine must punch its cards,

its electromagnets must cling on.

Yet I have to name belief as well as work it.

Which family title identifies

the hairiness of beings?

I am a Shorthaired Part-fleeced Hobs Moat.

You are a Thickhaired Whole-fleeced Shetland.

We are the family Sheep

of Shared Hair.

Pigeon Accessory

Since we peer

out from clothes

as if from thickets of bushes

birds read us:

‘Is that glove

a metonymic need to host me?’

Looking for

character

inside outfits is digging holes

in water.

I’ve not caped

nor swashbuckled nor flounced except

briefly once –

but I do

find myself alongside a rat

or pigeon

balancing,

surprised, a burden of their style.

***

Claire Crowther has published three collections of poetry (with Shearsman Press), several pamphlets, and has a pamphlet, Hap, forthcoming from Happenstance Press later in 2019. Her work is recorded at the Poetry Archive. She is co-editor of the Long Poem Magazine.

Photography by Tony Crowther.