A Lily For Aislinn by Susan Taylor

A Lily For Aislinn

A small and exquisite girl

walks calmly out of the open door

of a speeding cab.


The cab climbs up and over

a hill’s brow, with the rest of us

passengers inside, screaming.


I jump out, before it stops,

to run back over the rise.

A crowd clutches around


her body, motionless.

I can’t walk through them.

People’s faces distort in cars.


Some noise, offset, wakes me.

Brain hits daylight – shrugs it off.

This nightmare’s more important


by far. The shock is a shadow

of a real life shock, dancing as

a girl could dance – unrestricted


by the disrespectful cool

and stiffening of her limbs.

The dreaming is turned


into cartoon, stereotyped

in aftermath. I can’t make the funeral

or lay my lily in her name.


By Susan Taylor

Susan Taylor lives on Dartmoor. She performs her poetry in local pubs, (including her own ‘Trade Winds’ and ‘Maltsters Mash’ monthly acoustic nights), as well as at more formal venues, such as arts centres, festivals etc. She holds an MA from Bath Spa University, and runs poetry workshops in South Devon. Her latest collection is ‘The Suspension of the Moon’ from Oversteps Books.


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