an Aotearoa poetry journal | ISSN 2744-3248

Poems by Marie C Lecrivain

8 on its side

Marie C Lecrivain

Published on
page 15 of Tarot #5
(Dec 2022)

unadorned spinster
a fog gathers inside
her cat is hungry

in bed a man weeps
trapped by newsprint sirens
a tangle of inky limbs

boy on a swing
watches other children play
the distance widens

a couple entwined
she gasps, tightens, fulfilled
he sighs, emptied

old woman & phone
silent companions
no calls for days

father & son debate
rough voices parry & thrust
the stag laid low

city of light
the dark-souled denizens
cleave to shadows

8 on its side
constant rings tarnished
crushed underfoot

ultrasound

Marie C Lecrivain

Published on
page 28 of Tarot #5
(Dec 2022)

today
the cup & the wand intersect
to scry for answers
to my future

an image coalesces
to reveal the empty chamber
of my womb
bleak, cool, lifeless
its smooth barren walls
are unappealing

& I can discern
the left ovum
slowly extend its tendrils
to release a viable
who does not stay
but chooses to quietly expire;
a kinder alternative
than spending 10 moons in
an oubliette
that cannot hold love or kindness

I have seen
my future echoed
in miniature;
the futile journey
of an imaginable life
passing
into night