Today’s choice
Previous poems
Abby Crawford
Stonevale
When I was born
the house was full
of stones, an old blacksmiths shed.
Rubble became walls,
became home.
I used a brush as tall as me
to brush debris, dust, oyster shells.
In my blue gingham dress and boots.
We lived down from the street,
by the river, where the cloud god
threw his towel over the sun
and light took on the muteness
of a sound proofed room.
At the bottom of the water
one hundred fishes in unison
told me this was the beginning.
Abby Crawford is a poet and interdisciplinary artist based in Devon, UK. She has been published online in journals and received a commended in the Crysse Morrison prize 2023. She is currently working on her first pamphlet. Website: https://linktr.ee/abbymcrawford
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