In That Year
And in that year my body was a pillar of smoke
and even his hands could not hold me.
And in that year my mind was an empty table
and he laid his thoughts down like dishes of plenty.
And in that year my heart was the old monument,
the folly, and no use could be found for it.
And in that year my tongue spoke the language
of insects and not even my father knew me.
And in that year I waited for the horses
but they only shifted their feet in the darkness.
And in that year I imagined a vain thing;
I believed that the world would come for me.
And in that year I gave up on all the things
I was promised and left myself to sadness.
And then that year lay down like a path
and I walked it, I walked it, I walk it.
The Art of Falling – Kim Moore
On the back of ‘The Art of Falling’ is a comment by David Morley ‘Kim Moore is the most compelling poet under review because she is least afraid of the dark sounds speaking through her.’
This extraordinary poem invoked tears in the writer of this post… We offer it to anyone who has experienced their own version of ‘that year’ – and to those who have supported healing processes.
Here’s the book link:-
Palace Gate Counselling Service, Exeter
Counselling in Exeter since 1994