Poetry- Jean Taylor

Death’s Signature

Maybe I should have known, it rained so hard,
that you had gone. Maybe I should have known
that yellow tulips spilling from the vase
reveal black-triggered hearts.
Maybe I should have wondered, seeing the glass
with its green edge, who we would kiss
when there were no more frogs. Maybe I should
have recognised your flourish in that splash of red.

These Are the Elements:

some lines on the pathway
a park bench
a pale blue pram
an old man
a Madonna and child
an unmarried mother
some lines on the pathway
an old man
a park bench
a pale blue pram
a hooded perambulator
an unmarried mother
a park bench
some lines on the pathway
an old man
a man with a long history
a hooded perambulator
some lines on the pathway
an unmarried mother
a park bench
a dilapidated bench
a man with a long history
an unmarried mother
a hooded perambulator
a cross-hatch of shadows

Black and Blue

She was born into a landscape
of bing hills and pitheads.
Coal sequinned the pathways
from sand dunes to the edge of the sea.
Now she flinches from black
as a child might draw back
from a moment of hurting,
chooses soft secondary colours
amber, moss agate, amethyst.
Wears blue to funerals.

About the contributor

Jean Taylor belongs to Words on Canvas – a group of writers who work in collaboration with the National Galleries of Scotland. Her poetry has been published in a range of publications including Orbis, Northwords Now, Eildon Tree, and Envoi as well as online on Snakeskin, Amaryllis and Ink, Sweat and Tears.

Related Articles

The Wave Theory of Grief, poetry by Matthew James Friday

The Wave Theory of Grief Two ducks bullet overhead, fire over the lake where a hawk circles, darker than the albatross winged gliders....

The Sheathing. William Conelly

THE SHEATHING An angel robed in stainless steel  loomed piously above his bed.  It proffered neither rapturous death nor life eternally supposed....

Assam. Poetry by Krishna Lewis

Krishna Lewis the Fellows Program Director at the Hutchins Center for African & African American Research at Harvard University.

More Like This

Dragon Flies & The Funeral

Manoj Nair lives in Bangalore, India. He writes short stories, poems and haiku.

5 Red Pears- Poetry Luis Berriozabal

Luis Berriozabal's latest chapbook, Make the Light Mine, was published by Kendra Steiner Editions.

Irradiated Love

Irradiated Love How I enjoy seeing you in your  paper shoes and hat and lilac scrubs, Do with me what you will, Aurelia...

At the site of the crash – Brendon Booth-Jones

At the site of the crash all is thunderingly still. The street, trees, and houses lie curled asleep in the predawn chill....

I Went Up Through The Trees. Simon Read

I WENT UP THROUGH THE TREES I went up through the trees Those trees over there The ones with clouds above them...