Bronzefield
By Maggie Sawkins
Sounds like a place that once
was torched
by the breath of a god,
but more likely it was built
on a field of corn,
this building with high red walls
where you’ve finally
been netted.
My mutant butterfly,
when I come to visit
they search my mouth.
From Magma No. 36, Winter 2006
Maggie Sawkins lives in Southsea where she runs Tongues and Grooves poetry and music nights. Her pamphlet, Charcot’s Pet, is published by Flarestack.
