The Flemish bond cements a facade strong,
inside, soot marks time along the floor.
Laid out, dead letters carpeting the hall
reach for the tiles a yard beyond the door,
where a broken bell extrudes a metal tongue
still soundless in the summer afternoon.
Nettles seed at random after rain,
as fecund buddleia ferret a foothold,
fight rampant rugosa, rooting for space
beneath the swaddling shepherd's purse.
A frayed ship's rope swings listless on the tree
abandoned far beyond this greening tide.
An exhausted starling beats black the lace
upstairs inside the smallest room.
Jo Reed lives at present in Scarborough, where she is working on a collection of poetry for the MA in Creative Writing at Newcastle University. She says: "My poetry is rooted in memoir, and Bonds is a reflection on a past existence."
Jo is involved with printmaking and illustration, and is working towards producing her own pamphlets and books combining text and image. She is passionate about Greek food, illustrated books, and railway timetables.
For more recent news from Jo, read her subsequent Poem of the Month, Kitchen Sink Painting.
Follow the link for a list of other Poems of the Month.
Bonds © 2010 Jo Reed: used with permission.
Copyright of this poem remains with the poet: please do not download or republish without permission.