A Floral Mutiny by Bernadette Richards

Bernadette Richards | Jun 21st, 2020 | poetry | No Comments


Am I clinging to a Cape Flats’ flower,
stuck to the top of a bright green thorn tree?
Have I handed over so much of my personal agency,
that every second day is a claw-through?

Have I bastardised the salt of my own weeping?
And crowned myself a Salem witch,
by preparing to see myself hang
via the thief taking a seat across my knees?

I have done what I thought was wanted
I have become what I thought was needed
I have forgotten the meaning
behind the fermenting of the dough
So much so that I did not know how to celebrate
when they announced the child was found

Your breath surprises the nape of my neck
That there’s anything left here which qualifies as attractive
is a test you win
You ask how it is that I treat love like a fitness contest,
And deep down I concede to some irony

But after the flood of volcanic mutiny
I have to learn to love the fractured bride within me
And accept her as she is, right here, right now,
One step by bittersweet step
Like the grace of a flower from the sky

Poet Bio

Bernadette Richards is from Cape Town. She is inspired by diverse forms of art and believes that creativity is one of the best forms of therapy

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