Chains – a poem by Jane Angué

set footsteps like arches 
over each moment
                       to lighten the load
plumed grasses trodden dry
mute their pain          real silence                         
outspoken         in sun and shade
outside us they are         and feel
a tortoiseshell’s mangled wings 
poppies picked       thrown aside
they                              our balm
your pain                              is real
for another breaking heart or home
our passing by hears        is unseen
with no cloak of invisibility
a touchless touch with no imprint
lark               larch                lover
feathers     leaves    brushing skin
singing solitudes to one another
our pain is real      the kindly ones 
who shadow our trail
are we                   
traces in our wake
remains         stains        spilt milk
in place of tears
bare feet on bare stone
a healing palm on passion’s welts
name intact                 and silence
constant corporality 
mind’s wall               tread lightly 
between meadow grass and thorn
shaping footfall 
slip among the stems
lifting the press of domination
one through other
submission to liberating chains.

Jane Angué teaches English Language and Literature in France. She contributes in French and English to print and online journals such asLe Capital des MotsAmethyst, Ink, Sweat and TearsAcumen, Erbacce, Poésie/première, Traversées, Mille-feuille. A pamphlet, des fleurs pour Bach, was published in 2019 (Editions Encres Vives).

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