Daughter
They brought her to me – tiny
in a Moses basket, woven rushes
hemmed with a white frill.
As though she were a doll,
or sleeping.
They’d taken great care to settle her,
head to one side, capped
with a woollen hat,
her arms peeping over
the top of a blanket.
There are women -
The League of Friends -
who knit these kindnesses.
Are they alone, I wonder,
or do they huddle in a circle,
heads bent over needles
that clack together as if in prayer.
Claire Walker’s poetry is published in journals including Poetry Wales, Poetry Birmingham Literary Journal, Spelt and Finished Creatures. She was runner-up in the Pre-Raphaelite Society Poetry Prize 2023. Her most recent pamphlet is Collision (Against the Grain Poetry Press, 2019) and she is currently working on a novel in verse. Claire is co-editor of Atrium poetry webzine.
Comments