A poem by Geraldine Green

Cracked ice

Muffled chink of milk bottles handled
            by the milkman’s barely unfrozen fingers

when I was younger you gave me
            a hard rock in a soft place

the space between
            my outspread palms

mouth of a closing door
            opening wider

sound of ice in the river

            my face
when I look at myself

            in the mirror.

I must remember these when I go under

no point in resurfacing unless it’s to remind us
            of our beginnings

in the street I hear children
            forgetting themselves

these are the nights
            I wander

hands outstretched

houses blink
            their windows at me

turn and stare
            as if I want to burn them

when a door is shut
            I kick it open

(from The Other Side of the Bridge, Indigo Dreams)
Cumbrian poet Dr. Geraldine Green is a freelance creative writing tutor, mentor and associate editor of Poetry Bay. The Other Side of the Bridge, her latest collection published in July 2012 by Indigo Dreams, formed part of her PhD in Creative Writing: ‘An Exploration of Identity and Environment through Poetry.’ Her next collection Salt Road will be published in summer 2013 (Indigo Dreams)