THE MEDUSA EFFECT
Seduced by our past we root beneath cliffs
for track-ways and traces, fossilised dung.
Mostly intact with ink-sac in place
This was a squid long ago.
Even soft inner parts turn into stone.
X rays show fibres are white.
An exhibit incised from its zone in the strata
far from its dark sea-bed.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
DOLL IN THE CREEK
Face down in water the colour of rust,
a dirty pink doll in the scum.
Sodden in mud, a placard displaying:
OR
LE
Re-united together after seven decades,
the boy and the girl, the children
whose family split.
A grand-daughter’s mission, her dream
come true ― Party, champagne,
local reporter, The Lot.
The old girl weeps, hugging her brother,
remembers his look, the feel
and the smell of him still.
He, obeying instructions,
makes the right noises,
sips his champagne and smiles.
A film developed but blank.
He recalls not a jot of her.
Memory silts up.
The doll in the creek turned round
with a stick, has a
permanent grin.
Later, a drifting of currents;
The wooden sign tilts:
FOR
SALE
* Mandy
Pannett runs an arts cafe, supports two local writing groups and enjoys
giving readings and running writing workshops. She has two poetry
collections from Oversteps Books: Bee Purple and Frost Hollow.
