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Early Morning Discovery


I wrapped my vulnerabilities

into my thickest coat, pulled

padded gloves over already whitening fingers

and lumbered into the yard.


In the bitter world at the end of night,

the dog growled at a menacing shadow,

too slow to be a rat. Whatever it was

took umbrage, slipped

itself into a drystone gap.


At the wall, a bucket – plastic,

scratched – held an ice-rim half-moon.

When I lifted it out I saw it held

a fragile, latebrous wilderness.

A world shrunk down.


Held up to the dawn,

its innards burned pink.

I took a breath, took a step,

then let myself in.



Penny Blackburn lives in North East England but is originally from Yorkshire. Her poetry has been published by, among others, Poetry Society News, Atrium, Phare and Riggwelter. She was recently commended in the Waltham Forest and Positive Images Festival competitions. She is on Twitter and Facebook as @penbee8.

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