Lost Things
two poems about the oncoming climate disaster
(I am actually not entirely sure where this picture comes from! im pretty sure it was a friends holiday - but isn’t it perfect for a place you wouldn’t ever want to lose?)
Lost Things
wind makes bones of the trees
leaves rattle, leathery skin
petrified
in harsh skies, rare sun
I could shift in this crazy tumult
walk desert sands
shimmy into rainforests
paint myself like a bird
run with bears or foxes
kneel in the mulch
and with wet knees
cry endlessly for lost things
I see the pulse of my heart
in the russet jangling
the dome of my skull
in the white curl of a discarded leaf
the curve of my thought
condensed into a bright green bud
Two Roubles two roubles fell from my youngest daughter there had been no rain for a month skyward birds plucked feathers dropped them with crisp unhappy leaves so something is always falling I can only offer my silhouette to the dust wrapped in cotton cast on the floor shrunk to almost nothing as gentle words bruise, darkened by fey roubles sun dry
(Both Poems first published in Bind collective you can read it here)
(a two rouble piece, my husband had been teaching theatre all over the world and we have coins that my daughter plays with)
If you enjoyed my words please consider leaving a tip (!) restacking, or recommending! thanks you lovely people!
I am running out of republished stuff now - at least poems that I still think have something! All my new work is being prepared for a collection. I would love to be sharing it with you as posting old stuff somehow doesn’t feel so relevant! So I will be dropping down to one poem once a week I think (unless something magical happens!) I have a computer bursting with words here and I need to corral them.




Yes! Keep writing, Susannah, and round up those galloping words. We will buy your collection when it come out.
Best Wishes - Dave :)
Ugh. Preparing for a collection. I hate doing it, which is why I haven't published one in so long. But suddenly....Substack is somehow making me feel more "professional," maybe I'm getting to the point where I can think of writing poetry as a real practice. Maybe. Work like yours is helpful, reading the work of the other stellar writers here does wonders I think. Please do let us know when you publish that collection!!