On hearing the seismologist say there could be an 8.5R earthquake near Athens

            Vasiliki Albedo

Lavender blooms thin,  
its stems balletic in the vase. 
Every day I bless 
my cats. May they be healthy 
and happy and safe. 
Another earthquake could upset 
the city and its strays. 
I was twelve when the big one 
hit Athens and all I could think   
was Sparky trembling 
by the cracked pane. 
My mother was delivering 
my brother and about to 
forever split town.
Yesterday chopping salad 
I sliced through a slug 
sheltered in the tight 
lettuce heart. I let 
water carry its mass 
into the drain’s dark. 
What is the opposite of yellow?
my little niece asks. 
The gorse declares 
its shrivelled buds alive 
this Wednesday afternoon 
so blue it should be out,
it should be dancing.


Vasiliki Albedo’s poems have recently appeared in The Poetry Review, Poetry London, Oxford Poetry and elsewhere. She won The Poetry Society’s 2022 Stanza competition. Her two prize-winning pamphlets are Fire in the Oubliette (Live Canon) and Arcadia (Poetry international).