Sally Festing
Their Prints Moths, ghosts, my house is full of them. I live with waves of silence but the lives roar enormous through my rooms – hung on walls, stuffed in bookcases, leaking from wounded suitcases tied with string. It rained last night, and the dead came down with the drops – to gather where the land is flat and windblown. The quiet stores their smiles. I press my finger where theirs have been, thread words to tumble them back, all talking, arguing.     Ink, Sweat & Tears 2018 from Sally’s fifth collection of letter-poems, My Darling Derry, available now.  
Poet, biographer, journalist, radio dramatist
Sally Festing
 
 
 
Their Prints
Moths, ghosts, my house is full of them.
I live with waves of silence but the lives
roar enormous through my rooms –
hung on walls, stuffed in bookcases, leaking
from wounded suitcases tied with string.
It rained last night, and the dead came down
with the drops – to gather where the land is flat
and windblown. The quiet stores their smiles.
I press my finger where theirs have been, thread
words to tumble them back, all talking, arguing.
 
 
Ink, Sweat & Tears 2018
From Sally’s fifth collection
of letter-poems,
My Darling Derry,
available now.
 
Poet, biographer, journalist, radio dramatist