If you Hear it Thunder don’t run Under a Tree
It was the sound: those fat gold
drops that fell from heaven. Pennies,
she said, but though her voice was quiet,
the brass held dreams of benjamins, bold
shopping sprees, silk shirts, mink coats
slim fingers stacked with diamonds. You
had to go through showers first, she said,
you had to be brave when it thundered.
Standing in my Sunday best, I listened
as Billie promised me a fortune
to make the pavements shine. I turned
my umbrella upside down, pressed
hand to heart, dreamed of your voice,
your face, my fortune falling all over town.
Seraphima Kennedy is a poet, memoirist, and educator who was once placed under armed guard in western China for her own safety. She completed her MA in poetry at Goldsmiths in 2009, and is now working on her PhD. Born and raised in London, her work often explores conflict, migration, music and family. Seraphima has performed at the Tate Modern, Poetry Café, and Vortex Jazz Club, and has presented work in Canada, Portugal and Sweden. Twitter @seraphimaAM
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