After Chris Newton’s ‘The Word Ropeable’

 

I asked what do you think of
when you hear the word Waverley

and you said you think of a picture in a jam jar lid
made by some vegan artist with an accent while the legs
of Thoroughbreds race by churning mud over acid green

A square house with bricks painted a glossy cream and
an impeccable feature fan highlighted in Heritage Brown

It brings to mind Scotland and that lady-writer Rosamond
propped up by satin pillows with pens and paper
her swan-white hair swept off her marble brow as she thinks

as we all think: that this is the second to last chance
to write something beautiful and then you asked

me and I just said waves.

 

Kathryn Hummel