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Lucy Ashe: a poem


Waiting for the first shoots

Hurts. Hurry, she whispers

Every morning, the first light 

Gathering the soil, her song

Guiding the seed, up, up, out

Of its tomb.

She tries patience.

Trapped in a jigsaw, a concrete

Tower, estate, city. Dry

Blocks on blocks on

Road paved with paving 

Stones. She longs for her

Green shoot.

Tempted, she shakes

The soil gently, seeking

what is below. Days of

Nothing. Seed, stubbornly

Turning away from her. 

Care; water; nursing.

Nurturing is a small

Wish, she thinks.

She wakes early

Worrying; the wind

Whips at her windows 

Through the night. 

Light scratches

Her pillow in hard

Streaks of dust.

She runs out. There.

A little green shoot

Hoping for the sky. 

Lucy Ashe is an English teacher. She writes reviews for and currently has a feminist dystopian novel out on submission to agents. Her poetry and prose are soon to be published in Truffle Literary Magazine and 192 Poets' Directory. You can also find her here: @LSAshe1.

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