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How weather affects them<\/strong><\/p>\n Accustomed to the yes and no of things, When it\u2019s wet he remembers drought. Winds have scoured her surface, He positions his boot with care, <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n Clare Best<\/strong>\u2019s first full collection, Excisions<\/em>, was shortlisted for the Seamus Heaney Centre Prize, 2012.\u00a0CELL<\/em> is due out any minute with Frogmore Press. Recent work has appeared in Envoi, Under the Radar, The Interpreter\u2019s House<\/em>. http:\/\/clarebest.co.uk<\/a> \u00a0 Blog: https:\/\/selfportraitwithoutbreasts.wordpress.com<\/a><\/p>\n This poem was first published in\u00a0The Interpreters House<\/em> no. 58, March 2015.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" How weather affects them Accustomed to the yes and no of things, one day she\u2019s brimming, mercurial, the next, a dish of mud. When it\u2019s wet he remembers drought. When there\u2019s only dust, he wants rain to fill the shallows. Winds have scoured her surface, sunlight has bleached her. She knows the […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"","_et_pb_old_content":"","_et_gb_content_width":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[7],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-10322","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-prose-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10322","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=10322"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10322\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":10324,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10322\/revisions\/10324"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=10322"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=10322"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=10322"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\none day she\u2019s brimming, mercurial,
\nthe next, a dish of mud.<\/p>\n
\nWhen there\u2019s only dust,
\nhe wants rain to fill the shallows.<\/p>\n
\nsunlight has bleached her.
\nShe knows the tight smother of ice.<\/p>\n
\nlets his weight slow-shatter the crust.
\nHe enjoys the pressure, the give.<\/p>\n