Susan UttingSusan Utting 


The Properties of Silk

Silk will slip like a dream through an 'o', through
the mouth of a wedding ring taken for gold,
or over and over will fold up its acre of self
to a packet of flight to be tested for strength
by the weight of a man, well-built and ready;

one who believes in its billow, its crinoline belly,
in drift and drag, safe landing dream-time.
A man who knows nothing of bushes and trees
still growing in cities, of spinners and weavers,
looms and cocoons, of traders or dressmakers.

Who won't wear it raw or shot to a shimmer,
slub-weave or watered; but will rescue its
silent-night fall, gather its acre of cloud to a
packet of love, fit for a slip of girl, for a bride.

from "New Poems" section of Half the Human Race (Two Rivers Press 2017)

This poem won 2nd prize in the The Wells Literature Festival Poetry Competition
and was overall winner of the Wells People's Prize

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