Catherine Faulkner: a poem



Low Tide

Her litany of lost things:

fragmented crab,

shell shattered to nothing.


Christ in porcelain:

a child kept in her pocket

that she felt

each time she wavered.


She remembers them

as a siren song.


Once,

the bloated body of a gull

decaying in the sudden slope of green.


Once,

a convict heart

netted in sea-rubble,


blood-beat crawling –

rather be in the belly of marsh mud

than loved.


Rather be scarred against the scrub of sand.

Rather be waiting

in the poised claw of night

for the sirens to stop.



Catherine Faulkner lives in the Highlands. Her poetry has been published in The Wilfred Owen Assoc. Journal, Celebrating Change, Shared Stories Cairngorms, Severine and Gingerbread House.