PHOENIX ARK ARE PROUD TO PRESENT A POEM FOR THE POET’S SWEATSHOP, BY SITA SCHUTT

DEAD ROSES

A parcel –
Damp,
Hidden in a garden.
These are my clues.

Brown petals
Spill
From between silver
And turquoise,
And words

Reminding me
Of the frogs
Singing
Beneath my balcony.

Here, by the canal,
The rosebuds rot:
Earrings too heavy
To wear.

You are not there,
Not here.
Your broken face in the water,
Dreaming of breakfast,
Distant and strangely young.
In your house full
Of women.

Sita Schutt Copyright 2004
Sita was born in Constance, and lived for a time in Ankara. She has a PhD in Literature, runs the Charity co-ordinator Prospero World, and now lives in London.

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