Written for the exciting and wonderful ‘Magpie Magazine’

There is a small set of stairs beneath
The smoke and blue-stained primates of a Southern town.
Maybe only three or four paces – no more –
And remarkable only
For the shadows left by my first stretching roots;
Criss-crossing tendrils
Burnt web-like, cordite on concrete, zeniths kissing
Each others fingertips, exchanging secrets and
Pulling liquid out of stone.

I can almost remember when
Knotted barks and dewy brackets
Stretched through that old house, pebble-dashed,
Its windows straining against boughs, the first
Velveteen buds of spring
Rubbing; children’s noses pressed
With blanketed raptures on the bars
Of the cages at the zoo,
Underground, they thicken. Great cracks

Quickly after appeared in concrete –
Years passed beneath the coughing
Of multi-coloured exhausts, white lines
Flashed at eyes beneath a camphor path!
The leaves may curl once a year, but my feet find
Colder sands to press into. Disused slate mines,
Catacombs, tube lines.
Southern towns and pick-axes; these may be
Roots, reflections

To turn on their head, now’s the time!
Let us move outside, take what is ours and push –
Push deep into the soil, find cracks in which to
Force the leaves,
And let the earliest knuckles of drinking wood
See some light, for once.

About Benjamin Norris

Published writer of short stories, long stories, poems. Well received art critic and cultural commentator for Berlin magazines. Collaborator with operatic societies. Co-writer of fictional historic psycholinguistic journals. Lecturer of architecture and art history at a Budapest University. View all posts by Benjamin Norris

One response to “Mycorrhiza

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: