Mslexia

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New Writing

Dusk on Midsummer’s Eve.
The falling call of warblers fades,
Bees brush at window frames,
Shrews cease their shrilling.
Above the whispering of the trees
We hear his footsteps.

He lifts the latch.

‘You there, lass?’ We hear him sigh.
Thrown clogs clatter on unclad flags.
‘I’m weary as a calved cow, lass.’
We wait. Clogs rattle again.
‘The whore’s out sporting in the hay!
I’ll fettle her!’ The whistle of steel drawn.

The latch clicks and the crunch of clogs on clay
Takes him away for another year.

JILL BONSER’S first poem was published in 1976, her first work of translation in 2000 and her first renku in 2001. The tools of her trade are an antique Remington manual (that types Czech!), an elderly Facit Electric that’s a dream to use, and a top-of-the range Brother that does everything. She writes in the silent hours of the early morning, in the glory hole. Her biggest influence is the Ancient world, its literature and mythology. She loves learning foreign languages, and writing letters. Currently she is reading David Sweetman’s biography of Mary Renault.

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