i.m. of the women ‘canaries’ who suffered mental and physical problemsdue to the toxic chemicals they worked with in the factories
She sees they have scattered goldwhere the gate once hungto tempt her from the path
to tempt her to cross the cracksthey even placed a black catbeyond the boundary
she knew safe. She will not singthough they call her canary.Her yellow hand swoops
a feather from the path to sweepthe gold to shelter by the blinddaffodils, bound since March
when they pretended dead – falleninnocents in a time where diatribereigns and generals
remain at the rear. She recogniseseach passing person’s greetingknowing the code:
a hand half-raised – the salute –the head inclined to the left– the warning –
or a nod which means she must leavewithin the week. Speechis not exchanged.
When he who comes with words lingerswhere brambles guard the pathshe will close the air
where the gate once hung. If the timeprove auspicious she will plucka snowdrop to light her way.