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Six Red Seeds<\/strong><\/p>\n In Persephone\u2019s dreams the sky is black <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n Bethany W Pope<\/strong> has published several collections of poetry: A Radiance<\/em> (Cultured Llama, 2012) Crown of Thorns<\/em>, (Oneiros Books, 2013), The Gospel of Flies<\/em> (Writing Knights Press 2014), and Undisturbed Circles<\/em> (Lapwing, 2014). Her first novel, Masque, <\/em>was published by Seren this year.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Six Red Seeds In Persephone\u2019s dreams the sky is black and ravens sing like mourning doves. Beneath the white grass, the soil is red as pomegranate juice. She longed to go back to her mother’s safe house, filled to the walls with stacks of wheat and starched, white-cotton dresses. In Persephone\u2019s dreams […]<\/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":[135,7],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-12219","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-2016-poetry-picks","category-prose-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12219","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=12219"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12219\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":12334,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12219\/revisions\/12334"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=12219"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=12219"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=12219"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nand ravens sing like mourning doves. Beneath the white grass,
\nthe soil is red as pomegranate juice. She longed to go back
\nto her mother’s safe house, filled to the walls with stacks
\nof wheat and starched, white-cotton dresses.
\nIn Persephone\u2019s dreams the sky is black
\nas the eyes of her uncle, her rapist, who dragged her slack,
\nunconscious body into the womb of the earth through lips
\nof soil; red as pomegranate juice. She longed to fall back
\ninto the white arms of her mother, where she never lacked
\nanything but freedom, where she could be a good, simple lass.
\nIn Persephone\u2019s dreams, the sky is black,
\nclouded with regrets. The sun is too bright, the air too rank
\nwith slow decay. The thrum and pulse up here feels crass;
\nthe soil red as pomegranate juice. She longs to go back
\nto the time before her rescue, where there was pain, and packs
\nof wolves, but where the truth was clear as her face in a glass.
\nIn Persephone\u2019s dreams the sky is black,
\nthe soil red as pomegranate juice. She longs to go back.<\/p>\n