Poetry by Katharine Goda

Dandelion Clocks

I hold you

softly

like right answers

like dandelion seeds

like the moment

the sky turns

from black

to deepest blue.

One day

I will blink

and miss

these beams

uncurl my palm,

see an unanswered puzzle,

feel only

the weight of air.

Meniscus

He shows us how liquids

will cling and grow,

gifts us a miracle

for a moment,

then spills

magic,

leaves

only

phy-

sics.

Honeysuckle

A dream becomes the buzz of bees

listing between flowers.

Sunlight writes on the ceiling.

A day of possibilities: new book,

lying in the centre of my sunbeam

till noon, garden till tea.

Creak of a floorboard; they summon me

to tell me, gently, Granny has died.

I rearrange my face.

We stay on the north side of the house

where the sheets are cool and smooth

and smell only of reality.

About the contributor

Katharine Goda’s work has appeared on journals and in anthologies, most recently Play, published by The Broadsheet and The Result is What You See Today, by Smith|Doorstop. She was highly commended in the Blue Nib Chapbook competition 2019 and the Otley Poetry Prize 2018 and Commended in the YorkMix Poetry Competition 2019 and Settle Sessions Competition 2018.

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