New contemplative poetry from Natalie Crick
Again the storm is waving, and concealed
Between these waxen nets
We look on. I can see no cordon,
But the brittle fence and shushing stalks
By which morsels of bush and neighbourly gusts
Strained on fresh waste, can be absorbed.
So for an hour I have sat and thought
Swelling in a pool of electricity.
I have sat and thought about this novel fury for an hour.
I have heard the gale roar above my head
And whip through the bricks and lick
It seems, around this house alone. I am content in
Painting in trance
The knowledge that this performance
Of dancing drums and stabbing ribbons
Is happening outside my window.
Natalie Crick has found delight in writing all of her life and first began writing when she was a very young girl. Her poetry is influenced by melancholic confessional Women’s poetry. Her poetry has been published in a range of journals and magazines including Cannons Mouth, Cyphers, Ariadne’s Thread, Carillon and the National Poetry Anthology 2013.