Went to see a comedy show with a few people last Thursday and was discussing FAWM with my friend from Brighton. He writes poetry and sent me this beautiful and personal sonnet that I just knew would be spoken word. I don't particularly like my voice so perhaps earlier in the month I'd have found someone better to read it but alas..!
A poem by Daniel Searle
"From morning sun til dine"
We've had a storm. And so, a storm had us,
A British storm, of course, so no complaints.
No flooded streets, no power-outs, no fuss.
We wake to minor, undetected change.
At sea, the bows were shaken. Nothing sank.
On land, the boughs were shaken, nothing snapped.
Just tales to tell, of brave and fearful lives.
Just rake the earth and set the fenceposts right.
The quicks beneath my eyes have come of age.
Two oyster shells, two nacred seas of shade.
We check the drive for signs of shattered slate.
Wisteria confetti-peppered grey.
The things around the house that you have lost.
Although they never lived, they now do not.