content warning: rape
He wrote on the ground (John 8:8)
a finger in the dust grit under nail
grubby sun-hardened skin
little ridges in the soil stones pushed aside
an earthy writing slate
curled or straight I never knew my letters
so that secret stayed with him
unlike mine open now for all to see
naked shoulders semen tracing
down my thigh snot crusted face
did he even look at me?
a flicker of the eyes his gaze respectful
turned towards the ground
let him who is without sin cast the first stone
I felt their breath upon my neck I smelled
their indignation
a scrabble on the sand
and then the silence
Anne Symons: After a career teaching deaf children and adults Anne began writing poetry in retirement. Her work has appeared in a range of publications in print and online. Her poem Lot’s Wife was recently awarded second prize in the Gloucestershire Open Poetry Competition. Anne has completed an MA in Writing Poetry at Newcastle University and the Poetry School in London.