Tara D

Biography

London based word writer and world watcher.

This is what you get

This is what you get from a childhood of woods and fields and stream and stone. You should know I am tree to the bone. Nostrils flare to the acrid song of soil – bared to the blessing of a soft rainfall – rising over the stink of a damp sidewalk. It is all I can do not to plant my hands and knees rooting deep in the dreaming earth beneath. You should know that I – despite the job, the boots and coat – am as much rising sun as rotting leaf, as deepest root, as everything strong and arboreal in the space in between. I am your wilder wind. Where the wild things are is where I wish I were. Where you'd find me, not sophisticated, but horrified that I'd betrayed this wilding place

Where are you really from

We are brown and uncertain, uncultured or rather from culture thrice removed. First my mother was half-caste, second, cast from half her homelands, and third when she birthed us here, in the Midlands, England’s in-between, yet raised us there, in the borderlands, on a hillside, under a swelling storm. Not quite England, nor ever Wales, and certainly never Indian. Where are you from? I say the border. But really? I say our mother, obviously – can’t you see how we are Mother-marked? with our curling hair and inquisitive charm, and our vice for understanding. with our great, scarred and forgiving hearts – we are Mother-marked and she marked us art.

All poems are copyright of the originating author. Permission must be obtained before using or performing others' poems.