Leben, Es Ist Schwer by Natalie Crick

And there are angels singing in heaven when
He kissed her on the mouth,
Bowing their heads now.
Look again, but they are all leaving.

Madeline, she is numb.
Yes, my Lord.
Last night he found out that
He was made for better things.

This morning
The day is just passing him by.
Rain falls like ink down his face.
He is running wild in the same old hurricane.

There are punnets of plums on the table.
She lifts one to her mouth,
It is already in her hand.
Mother is alive as a Christmas tree walks and talks.

Sponges slapping,
Orange juice slamming. O God
She can hear
Hands clapping.

There are flowers everywhere,
Running away from her all over the floor.
They are laughing at her Mother.
There are flowers growing around her wrists,

Pulling her to the door.
Follow the leader.
It is like an escape.
How can you get back what you have lost?

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 National Poetry Anthology 2013.



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