celebrating and creating our own LGBTQ+ history in honour of Sheila McWattie

day eighteen

Splintered Kindling


Dark oak, gothic; furniture that has been mine for years.

She’ll bump into it, bruise, curse me. I know.

Taking the small axe from the wood pile I bring it into the house of me

And set about rendering the thing to splintered kindling.

We burn it now in our fire

And the smoke curls out from our nostrils and mouths

Steaming and hissing.

Old ghosts expelled,

Clinging curling clouds

Vapour disappearing into the clean blue air.


Nicky Mitchell


Comments on: "day eighteen" (2)

  1. transformational beautiful piece

  2. transmutation in the fires of change? really alive!

Leave a Reply

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

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com 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: