{"id":8694,"date":"2015-06-28T08:00:03","date_gmt":"2015-06-28T08:00:03","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/ink.verticalplus.co.uk\/archive\/?p=8694"},"modified":"2015-05-27T14:51:24","modified_gmt":"2015-05-27T14:51:24","slug":"monica-corish","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/monica-corish\/","title":{"rendered":"Monica Corish"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><strong>Seven Winters<\/strong><br \/>\n<em>for Trish Howley<\/em><\/p>\n<p>Once I lived beneath a lemon tree,<br \/>\nwore sandals all year long,<\/p>\n<p>air on my skin, mud squelching<br \/>\nbetween my toes after sudden rain.<\/p>\n<p>Seven winters have passed<br \/>\nsince I last saw Africa, and I miss her:<\/p>\n<p>a large and exuberant friend<br \/>\nwho wears colours that clash,<\/p>\n<p>who laughs louder than anyone else<br \/>\nin the restaurant, who sucks lustily on crab claws,<\/p>\n<p>on the sour bite of a lemon.<br \/>\nI want to live with her again.<\/p>\n<p>I want to make my house in a corner<br \/>\nof her courtyard, to smell like her,<\/p>\n<p>of sandalwood, to watch her enormous<br \/>\nand flexible hips as she dances.<\/p>\n<p>I want to live for one season more in a land<br \/>\nwhere rain is always a blessing.<\/p>\n<p>O Summer, O Africa, O deathless Mama,<br \/>\nmake a place for me at your table.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><strong>Monica Corish<\/strong>&#8216;s poetry has been published widely, including<em> Poetry Ireland, Orbis, The North, Causeway\/Cabhsair, Artemis, THE SHOp, Cyphers, New Irish Writing <\/em>and<em> The Stinging Fly<\/em>. Her first collection, <em>Slow Mysteries<\/em>, was published by Doghouse. <a href=\"https:\/\/sites.google.com\/site\/monicacorishartistandwriter\/\" target=\"_blank\">www.monicacorish.ie <\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; Seven Winters for Trish Howley Once I lived beneath a lemon tree, wore sandals all year long, air on my skin, mud squelching between my toes after sudden rain. Seven winters have passed since I last saw Africa, and I miss her: a large and exuberant friend who wears colours that clash, [&hellip;]<\/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-8694","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-prose-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/8694","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=8694"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/8694\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":8696,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/8694\/revisions\/8696"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=8694"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=8694"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=8694"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}