Our journey to reclaim the wild self, inevitably encounters frustration and grief for our treatment of the Earth, as well as its beauty. But if you accept what is, if you listen and watch – the wild reveals itself and responds through our imagination.
‘Clyne’s poems are as earthy, rich, feral as the landscapes she writes about. Woven through all of them is the theme of digging to the bedrock, the bones – of human, of land. Her concerns are territory, boundaries, fences – and how we might slip through the wires. At times, as in the final poem, she achieves a near-shapeshift before our eyes.’ Roselle Angwin
Rachael’s new collection was a winner of the 2013 Geoff Stevens Memorial Prize and is published by Indigo Dreams Publications ISBN 978-1-909357-51-8 Price £7.99 – Purchase from www.indigodreamsbookshop.com/#/rachael-clyne/4584569249
It’s the usual room-shuffle claiming our spot proximity to loo preferred mug. Outside, brash wind monochrome mountains tussocks of grass, gorse. But we are all fenced-in wired to worked out ways territory divided: rooms, heath. Mine is the outcrop near the bone tree three gates, two fields, four fences away Our task: to slip through the wires.
A nameless mountain fractured, ravaged, felled she keeps faith, limping along with her tattered, scattered miracles of grace, birdsong, wordsong. Her list of kin is long, but she utters each and every name sharp as swift’s trill mellow as curlew soft as sedge. Her knowledge cries through the dark like whinny and drum of snipe traces withfeathered fingers licks moth-soft at our hearing.