Ginny Darke
The last time you cried was at the supermarket, clutching a jar of mustard like it could somehow save you. You think about how embarrassing that must’ve been to witness. Though, at this moment in time, you are in a field. There is a pond with a horribly oversized yellow green blue swordfish flapping for its life. You think to help it but you’ll probably only make it worse. There is nothing you love more in this world than a free cotton tote bag. Your tights are itchy. Did you know the word grapefruit has healing powers? Grapefruit. Say it with me. Grapefruit. Your baby is teething on your now-wet thumb. You still want to cry but don’t want her to worry. You are warm. The air above, so pink, so dead. The crickets rub their legs together. You check your phone and you feel the hole in the ozone letting in new, little things for you.
Ginny Darke is a Welsh poet based in Bristol, England. She has been shortlisted for the Poetry Wales Award (2025) and was a Foyle Young Poet. Her poetry has been published with Poetry Northern Ireland, Anthropocene, Basket Magazine and Ink, Sweat and Tears.
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