Poems by Sadie Maskery : “Safe Spaces” “Faith” & “Haiku”

Safe spaces

Refuge comes in shadows, small corners.
I had two dens as a child.
I made acorn babies with twigs for limbs,
curled beneath an old pallet
propped against an oak tree.
Other children found me. Get out they said.
I dropped my dolls, sidled to one side,
a small animal observing humans
wreck her nest, uncomprehending
as they smashed the wood with branches
torn from trees, crushed my friends underfoot, laughing; I was confused.
They would not destroy without cause,
I must have deserved it somehow.

The other den was a hole, a scar
in a hillock of tattered tarpaulins
and dumped fossil cans. I dreamed
amongst the weeds, alone except for
the flasher behind the chain link fence.
Come closer, he would cajole.
I would smile shyly from my fort,
squint at his friendly flaccidity.
Part of the scenery, he never moved,
just leaned, squares and diamonds
pressed into his soft pale belly.
Come closer, do you want to touch it?
I would sigh and wish he had acorns
I could make into little babies.

Faith

it’s a     shock, 

the first time

an old man 

sticks        his tongue

in your mouth

leechlike,     i did not 

expect the feel 

of dried slime 

    reconstituting

in a        space reserved 

for orange squash 

     and moon dust 

 no    words   to      say

 so     i recoiled     and 

my mother told me

not to be        rude as

i backed      away

all i could think of 

was the      egg       stains 

on his      collar 

from the wedding     buffet

and the      scum of 

spit round his         lips

when       he smiled

the next 

sunday

Haiku 

(I never mention

all the times being female 

meant ‘I deserved it’.)

Bio: Sadie (@saccharinequeen)
Sadie Maskery lives in Scotland by the sea with her family.  Her writing will be found in various publications both online and in print, and she can be found on Twitter as @saccharinequeen where she describes herself, optimistically, as “functioning adequately “.

photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash