For the next 12 days Literary Hub will help in counting down the days until the seventh-annual Irish Arts Center PoetryFest begins by publishing a poem, as selected by festival co-curator Belinda McKeon. 

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Demeter, by Fiona Benson 

Up in shorn Drake’s Meadow the hay bales shine.

They’re sheathed in plastic tubing and the plastic

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is slack at each end then tight round the bale

like a film. My daughter is compelled –

she must fit her arms round each bale, or pull

at their silver tails and I cannot draw her home.

I head down the path hoping she’ll come

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but when I look back she’s gone and my own voice

snags at her name like barbed wire on skin.

When I see her again she’s halfway down the field

emerging from behind another bale

as if they were portals or wormholes to pass her

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through this sun-bleached meadow – impossible –

her mouth is bruised with blackberry juice

and she keeps disappearing, the way a cormorant

will dive, then reappear a mile upriver,

disappearing, as if into hell through the shadow

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of a hay bale – Demeter will be screaming soon,

cutting her wrists with broken glass,

rubbing in dirt, turning the world to darkness and ice –

she misses her daughter so much (pathological) –

black ice on the school run, shuddering cars,

bodies through glass – she can’t bear it and I

can’t stand it – not that small smashed body on the road

nor the germs – septicaemia, meningitis –

her small blotched body in my arms –

nor the men preparing underground rooms –

bare mattress and a bucket, concealed stairs –

what mother could find you there,

digging up the pavement with her nails –

I can’t bear it and I cannot pray enough

to spare it, I’ll pray to any listening god

to keep her safe from harm, I go and pick

my daughter up and carry her protesting home.

 

Literary Hub is a proud sponsor of Irish Arts Center PoetryFest.

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