Genealogy of Blood – a poem by Sue Watling

Genealogy of blood
 
Clear skinned virgin,  
cusp of change, 
 
mother, counting the days,
no, yes, no, please,
 
and here I am, cheeks creased 
like the back of your shirt, 
 
we are charms on a bracelet of age,
all red, red, say it again, 
 
red for danger, red for stop,
wild women, poisoned fruit, 
 
colour me red so I can be seen,
talk to me about blood.  

Sue Watling is a writer and poet living on the north bank of the River Humber in the UK where she has an allotment and keeps bees. You can follow Sue on Twitter @suewatling

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