Her word for stuck, a sheep caught
in a ditch, or a breech birth,
a helpless creature needing to be roped out.
Strange that its first breath
lays open Eden Valley like a map,
the corners bending over the table,
one dot enlarged to the photograph
of her on a stile.
Then it closes me in
on a broken sofa, in a luggage hold
on the Whitby train.
The whole word was the tether
that made me run full circle on a busy road,
a foal herded off from its mother.
Sara is in her second year of a part-time MA in Creative Writing at Newcastle University. She lives and works in Sunderland.
The 'kessin' of the poem is either a family or dialect word Sara remembers her mother using. Her family, originally from Cumbria, moved to the North-East just a few weeks before Sara was born.
Follow the link for a list of other Poems of the Month.
Kessin © 2008 Sara Taylor: used with permission.
Copyright of this poem remains with the poet: please do not download or republish without permission.
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This page last updated 28th May 2008