Shelley Tracey

Rain

Shelley Tracey

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Beginning with absence,

dreaming the storm.

Rosebuds in their paper shrouds.

River speaks an alien tongue.

Sky a thin serrated sail.

Windless spaces.

Nothing adheres.

Forgetting your name.


I have no skin.

I am dampness without moisture,

burning without heat.

I have no heart for waiting,

no mind for finding patterns,

no head for more ascending.


Birdswirls not resolving,

rain comes in secret semaphore,

marking tracks between the stones,

my hooded head a drum.


Searching for poems amongst the blendings.

No word for awareness of rain.


Shelley Tracey


Shelley Tracey’s poems and stories have been published in a range of journals and collections, including Abridged, Artemis, On the Grass When I Arrive and North West Words. Her publications also include articles on creativity, on facilitating creative writing classes for people with sight loss, and on poetry therapy. Recently, she co-authored and co-edited a book about intercultural arts practice in Northern Ireland.  In 2015, Shelley was Artist in the Community for the Arts Council Northern Ireland, with an intercultural creative writing project, A Write to a Sense of Belonging. Shelley’s blog on creativity is at https://journeyspace.wordpress.com/