C.R. Penny: ‘Still Life with Aphids’

Still Life with Aphids

Behind the bean lattice, in the fennel wasteland,
Scarred by fire and tokens of household trash,
The dirt moat, with pearl tracks of snails interweaved,
Where emerald light is suffused by aniseed
Among the small tangle of childhood’s minutes.

Some treasures, a mouse’s skull, a smooth stone that fell
From the moon. My mother moves across the kitchen
Window, I am aphid small among the stalks,
Afraid of ladybirds.

The plants distort the way light falls, the shadows,
Fragile structures through lace and frond,
Of things best seen, from slits of light through fingers,
Embroidery of fennel fern across the eye.

My father speaks, a bus goes by, dopplers away.
St. James’ bell rings the evensong;
I am aphid small among the stalks.

C.R. Penny