Poetry | Susannah Violette

Two Roubles

two roubles fell
from my youngest daughter

there had been no rain
for a month

birds plucked feathers
dropped them with
crisp unhappy leaves




I can only offer my silhouette
to the dust

wrapped in cotton
cast on the floor

shrunk to almost nothing

as gentle words
bruise darkened by
fey roubles
sun dry

Lost Things

             wind makes bones of the trees
leaves rattle, leathery skin


             in harsh skies, rare sun
                            I could shift in this crazy tumult

walk desert sands

             shimmy into rainforests
paint myself like a bird
             run with bears of foxes
kneel in the mulch

             and with wet knees
                           cry endlessly for lost things

I see the pulse of my heart
in the russet jangling

the dome of my skull
in the white curl of a discarded leaf

the curve of my thought
condensed into a bright green bud

Nature is the blood of Susannah Violette’s work. Animals both within us and outside of us fascinate her and her poems become liminal spaces where the edges of these worlds blur. In 2018 she was recommended in the Westival International Poetry Prize, shortlisted for the Frogmore poetry prize, longlisted for the Plough Poetry Prize and appeared in various publications worldwide.

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