A poem by Anna Crowe
from the 'migrating skies' issue of island
 

SLOES
on the death of a child

have you seen a hedge at winter's end
go billowing down to a grey sea;
flowers that you mistake for cloud or a late frost?

this is the sloe, the black-
thorn, that blooms before the leaves unfurl
that wears no green in her bone-thin blossoming
but only thorns
grievous and long

she will not stay for us
her petals melt
like hailstones on the tongue

once fledged, her leaves
pierce your heart with their tender green
and in their midst the fruit ripens
blue-black, beautiful
gentled with bloom
like shadow on snow

with the first frosts
(the wild geese harking overhead
on their urgent journeys)
you gather them to steep in spirit,

marvelling, as the months pass,
how darkness clears to this true fire
how bitterness will distil such sweetness on the air

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