A new poem from poet and Starling editor Louise Wallace.
talk to your baby
|this is the sound of waves / of no preference / of low-fuss mothering / or working and staying reputable / this is the sound of being undercover / this is what it sounds like to be secretly terrified / and this is the sound of washing / drying flatly / in heat / the sound of a booster seat / being installed / this is the sound of intent / and of planning / and preparation / for something for which you can’t prepare / this is the sound of size / the sound / of a guarantee / and of hope / this is the sound / found / in a library / this is the sound of a screen / in the dark / the sound of being online / this is the sound of temptation / of fear / of harm / of hours / and this / the noise of uncertainty / of problems / change / the sound of being informed / the sound of knowledge / and so also / the sound of support / and reassurance / but / there is further bad news / the sound of bad posture / a continuous slouch / the sound of breasts / and shoulders / ankles / and the sound of the wrong song / the sound of mannerisms / walking / shoes / this is the sound of gravity / of stability / of the centre / of earth / this is the sound of your advocate / your relationship / the sound of protection / of a shield / of comfort / of the familiar / this is the sound of your body / and what’s possible / here / the sound of a shift / of adjustment / and this / the sound of seeing / this is what delight sounds like / this is the sound of your voice / sounding off at the sound / at fascination / the sound of learning / of signals / the sound of so much potential / this is the sound of light / and need / this is how it sounds to be tender / this is the sound of your own skin|
The Friday Poem is edited by Chris Tse. Submissions are welcome and will be open until 31 December 2021. Please send up to three poems to email@example.com.