Today’s choice
Previous poems
Alison Patrick
Cepaea nemoralis
A dozen snail shells exposed on dry soil
in the archangel’s cut brown stalks.
Banded like fairground sweets and helter-skelters,
but forget all those frivolous stripey things.
These are brittle, open-mouthed vacancies,
void of the electric currents which pulse calcium
into place, push, make space, turn right,
turn right, turn right around, into pearl and protect,
drive the slow voracious trail for the sappy green and leaf of life
the vegetable reverberation of loam,
before the shiver-shadow
of frost and blackbird,
the shrug-shrink
in and around,
and around.
And seal.
And sleep.
Alison Patrick studied English at Leeds University in the last century and finally got around to writing poetry a few years ago. She lives in Shropshire and works in a shop. She has been published by Proletarian Poetry, Popshot and Spelt.
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