Pestle and Mortar
Making it be, herb by herb
and crafting laughter
sown from buds of wilted ends
(either for lovers or for friends),
no sparks or smokes
but a burnt ring, brown and thin
like vintage tin
– firing –
blanking up a part of brain
and abruptly forgetting my own name.
Blindly grinding down choices
to be conscious,
to invent that consequence,
so when I’m winding the weeds
there’s no skill spent with ill intent.
Inspiring visions to inward grow
reveal the raw thinking flows
from vein to lung to nose
to song sung out
as white silent shout
in need to make luck and give –
isn’t that sought by all who live?
Based in the north east of England, Caroline Hardaker is a writer of flash fiction, poetry, script, and non-fiction, her work extending from staged monologues to philosophical prose on the interpretation of courage, appreciation, and time. Caroline has written for the north east theatre circuit, the broader UK magazine market, for online e-journals, and has written dialogue for various film and advertising companies. Caroline loves a good aroma, a clear frosty day (she’s definitely a winter person), and absolutely hates tomatoes. Don’t expect her to write an Ode to that devil’s fruit any time soon.
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