{"id":686,"date":"2010-05-22T15:00:00","date_gmt":"2010-05-22T15:00:00","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/ink.verticalplus.co.uk\/archive\/?p=686"},"modified":"2010-05-22T15:00:00","modified_gmt":"2010-05-22T15:00:00","slug":"alison-brackenbury-wants-the-sun","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/alison-brackenbury-wants-the-sun\/","title":{"rendered":"Alison Brackenbury wants the sun"},"content":{"rendered":"

Souvenir<\/span>
 <\/span>
My daughter could not bring the sun from Greece.<\/span>
So she arrived, swinging a carrier bag,<\/span>
Light blue, bristling with Ks, and crammed with sweets.<\/span>
 <\/span>
First, there was nougat, which I knew from slabs<\/span>
Buried in chocolate, stale black card, as logs<\/span>
Sulked into Christmas.  Later I would taste<\/span>
 <\/span>
French nougat, cream as lace, whose nuts lay crisp,<\/span>
Wrapped in stiff cellophane, one tiny block.<\/span>
Nothing prepared me for the look of this:<\/span>
 <\/span>
Greek nougat is as round as sun, a disc<\/span>
Of pure rice paper, quick as snow on lips.<\/span>
It breaks and crumbles with a lizard\u2019s kiss,<\/span>
 <\/span>
To nougat thin as petal, subtle honey,<\/span>
Hazelnuts, as brown as mole.  Did manna<\/span>
Brush each tongue to silk, caress like money?<\/span>
 <\/span>
Music, I thought, lights heaven.  This unlocks<\/span>
A further sun. There is another box.<\/span>



Alison Brackenbury<\/span>\u2019s seventh collection is Singing in the Dark<\/span>, Carcanet. She has recently produced a chapbook of animal poems, <\/span>Shadow<\/a>. New poems can be read at her website:<\/span> <\/span>http:\/\/www.alisonbrackenbury.co.uk<\/a>
 <\/span>

<\/font><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Souvenir My daughter could not bring the sun from Greece.So she arrived, swinging a carrier bag,Light blue, bristling with Ks, and crammed with sweets. First, there was nougat, which I knew from slabsBuried in chocolate, stale black card, as logsSulked into Christmas.  Later I would taste French nougat, cream as lace, whose nuts lay crisp,Wrapped in stiff cellophane, […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","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-686","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-prose-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/686","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\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=686"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/686\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=686"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=686"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=686"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}