Eyewear is pleased to feature a new poem by Geraldine Clarkson today.
Liquorice Aunt
It was a liquorice aunt refused to give me
if I didn’t tie my boot-lace there and then
(Oh, I shan’t!) and it became the emblem
of all that was denied, or bartered
for slavery of petty sort. Ebony
wheel of sweet-sucking sugar
dribbling juice, prolonged for hours:
St Catherine’s martyrdom, and mine.
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