Heaney and Frost Jessica Berry

Heaney and Frost

Peeking over Heaney and Frost they are spied…book soil under fingernails, un-alphabetising, rainbowing spines.

Brusque boy with chewing gum palms and gold earrings to rival Jack Sparrow. Feet on the desk. Spit on the ceiling. Curt with four letters. Like hardbacks, his defenses only undress when somebody looks past the sleeve.

Kawthar, comfortable in an adult’s quiet. Respectful palms glaze covers, she grazes pages with single syllables. Not ready for Hemingway or Fitzgerald - foraging for four letters: H o m e

Dusty aisles barely notice him: Baby face overwhelmed by circle frames, he stutters and stumbles over each word like rain that doesn’t quite reach the river. Not ready to quit, when nobody’s around, he’s the hero.

Olivia, most reverent of all. Won’t let white rabbit rush her choice. Under the paper weights that caused men and women to fall in love - she sponges up each potent drop, then distils her own. One day, we’ll listen to her wisdom.

You teach more than a poet could:

To be vulnerable To start slow To get back up To dream

Jessica Berry