Torn
On one side– my heritage
on the other side– their heritage
on both sides– carnage
everywhere– endless grief.
To lift the weight sitting in my chest.
I need to be away from people.
In an edgeland of drab fields and ditches,
I seek solace, not beauty.
I struggle to follow a path
pitted with deep puddles.
My only possible route– a thin ribbon
of grass at its centre.
On either side, craters of dark water.
I cling to the precarious
middle. If water strays across,
at least I can still see grass.
In October sun, sheep lie peacefully
ruminating, Elsewhere, people lie
under rubble. Others tell lies.
Poplar branches susurrate
as a casual breeze seizes its offspring,
scatters them on the road.
Some gleam bright and golden
others have already turned to rust.
Rachael Clyne – Her pamphlet Girl Golem, explores her Jewish, migrant background. Her new collection,You’ll Never Be Anyone Else, expands on themes of identity and otherness to include family, relationships and sexual orientation. rachaelclyne.blogspot.com