How I Keep Going
With thanks to Austin Kleon
Over and over and over
I worship at the altar
of what I believe to be
my deepest desire;
Thus will I attain
the most happiness for the world
and all who suffer therein -
for even the lowliest and least
assuming are worthy of love.
This is what drives me to make love
to the world with my words.
Have no doubt of my consistency -
though my heart is soft, and
my tongue twists with trying
to make sense, my aim is
never less than true,
my purpose clear, pure;
Birthed in the breath of the breezes
that caress the ageless mountains.
Letters
For Mary Shelley
Grey fog inclouds her mind
a sense of place escapes her
everywhere she is lost
but here
here at her mother’s headstone
she knows exactly who she is
tracing her name spelling her self
squeezing small warm fingers into
newlearned letters
cold hard edges
receiving childtrust fleshy and real
requiting her mother’s love
fitting determination to form
committing to the chiselled stone
faith in the lodestone of her name
and a promise to write her own fate.
Clare Bonetree lives in the riverine Lugg valley of the Anglo-Welsh borderlands. In the last few years she has been published in various print anthologies and online, including in Lothlorien Journal, and has contributed to community poetry and arts projects. In the 1990s she co-founded the multilingual Outloud poetry nights in Hong Kong. Clare’s writing explores themes of loss, memory, and hope as a practice.


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