<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Word Child\u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n The child who has never seen trees She thinks word lovers are like over-eager As if alive could be found in\u00a0dead things. Or mattered.<\/p>\n And those poetic, specific\u00a0words of her birth tongue \u2013 As if the thing could ever be uttered,\u00a0as if life to show\u00a0us wonders we never can speak of. <\/p>\n <\/p>\n L\u00f6nabrak \u2013 swell & surge breaking on the shore\u00a0<\/em> <\/p>\n Maxine Rose Munro<\/strong> is widely published in print and online, including Ink, Sweat and Tears<\/em>. She also publishes poetry in her native Shetlandic Scots, some of which can be found in Poetry Scotland<\/em> and Three Drops from a Cauldron.<\/em> www.maxinerosemunro.com<\/a><\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Word Child\u00a0 The child who has never seen trees won’t trust words because there’s never not another, better way to say it. She thinks word lovers are like over-eager victorian\u00a0collectors pinning down butterflies and beetles\u00a0in glass coffins. As if alive could be found in\u00a0dead things. As if to capture a thing wouldn’t\u00a0constrain it. […]<\/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-17605","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-prose-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/17605","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=17605"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/17605\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":17607,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/17605\/revisions\/17607"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=17605"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=17605"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=17605"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nwon’t trust words because there’s never
\nnot another, better way to say it.<\/p>\n
\nvictorian\u00a0collectors pinning down butterflies
\nand beetles\u00a0in glass coffins.<\/p>\n
\nAs if to capture a thing wouldn’t\u00a0constrain it.
\nAs if all it was was all that could\u00a0be seen.<\/p>\n
\nl\u00f6nabrak, brimtud,\u00a0affrug, shoormal \u2013
\nbeautiful fetters that trap\u00a0the thing.<\/p>\n
\ncould be told so easily. As if the role\u00a0of poetry
\nwasn’t to exquisitely fail<\/p>\n
\n <\/p>\n
\nBrimtud – sound of breaking on the shore\u00a0<\/em>
\nAffrug – reflux of waves after having broken on the shore\u00a0<\/em>
\nShoormal – high water mark; the water’s edge<\/em><\/p>\n