Deadheads. A poem by Denise Garvey

Unscheduled time being so unfamiliar I
scissor deadheads from the flowers.
Sit. Check the bank account.
Prepare some post. Ponder on lunch.
Boil pasta, pluck leaves from the garden.
Crush them, smell juice on my fingers.
Remember some leftover mango.
Strain the penne, mix herbs and fruit.
Savour the unlikely combination
aware, that with no crushing weight on my neck
I can breathe.

 

Bio & Link
Denise Garvey directs a Maths and English study centre. She is a member of the Wednesday Westside Creative Writers Group. She has featured in New Irish Writing (2019), and in an Irish Times article on Performance Poetry in Ireland.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *