Creators
Where your ancestor collected bottles
amber dark as bog-steeped river water
swaddling them in peachy doll flesh putty
studding them with countless periwinkles
gorse yellow, sorrel orange, figwort brown
lamp stands to cast a circle of low light
for daughters to read by, and cultivate
imaginings of worlds beyond the field
so you collect those poems which reveal
life at its most intense and solitary
turning them on when you most need to feel
your progress through the years is not empty
Where creation leads, how could they know
It takes a century to make a poet
T. N. Kennedy is a poet of Irish heritage living in London with her family and familiars. She enjoys wild swimming and collects pink sunglasses.
Substack: @apostilian