The Silver Tether (Somerset) There sits the silver twine, the tether, which so delicately Holds and guides us to the nether. It is lost in a furrow, besmirched by those Who have touched it but once before. It is illuminated by that guiding light of Soul’s transmutation at night. Where bound is bound no more, Only tied and sent yore to a place of such delight. It is the argent twine of memory; and faultless dream-bound reverie. It has been left here, discarded, Below lamplight of Mayflies. Ornately winged flying souls— our princely visitors of the skies. Those bright comets devised worthily, as it watches only from its dirt bed, for an eternity.
Alicia Beatrice is an autistic poet, writer, folklorist and florist from Melbourne, Australia. She studies Literature and is interested in exploring our experiences of memory through nature, as well as how we (or neurodivergent minds in particular) process grief. She loves prehistory, hiking, old churches, cemeteries and travelling through England and Wales.
Amethyst Review 