British Museum – rooms 15, 17 and 20

When I walk on Xanthos, I place my feet
on the footsteps of three thousand years, soundless.
I feel them in the air, the dust, a goat’s bleat,
sudden streaks of the sun and then – yes –
the dark rolling clouds over the mountains.
I can see in space, lay my hand slowly
on the wall of a tomb, Lycian,
and I’m grounded. I see tombs, three,
dismantled and shipped across seas,
placed in rooms, closed in by ceilings, walls,
dimly lit, air conditioned – see that these
are perfectly fitting, but they’re a puzzle
not the real picture. And Xanthos, in spirit, slips
like dust through Charles Fellows’ sieve.
 

Janet Hatherley

published in Acropolis, 2024;
in collection On the road to Candianda, 2024, Dempsey & Windle, ISBN 978-1-9133297-7-8

 
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Ghazal: For Reem

the grandfather cradles
his little one, wake up
 
holds her close
her breathing done, wake up
 
kisses her eyes, her hair
she’s his second one, wake up
 
shakes her gently
she’s sleeping on, wake up
 
his birthday hers
it’s coming soon, wake up
 
in his ears
the flashing bomb, wake up
 
all around him
Gaza’s gone, wake up
 
next to her brother
he lays her down, wake up
 
her skinny arms
he lays her down, wake up
 
strokes her face, her brow
no morning sun, wake up
 

Janet Hatherley

2nd prize, Enfield Poetry Competition 2023

 
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I’m not afraid

to sleep: I turn into it each night,
pull the billowing duvet around my limbs.
 
I, thirteen years old, in PE kit, took a last run,
bounced on the trampette and leap-frogged the buck.
 
At the very top, my strength failed.
In my dive, my fall, I felt
 
one moment of absolute fear and then
acceptance. It was complete and I was calm
 
when I hit the floor. This is how it must be
at the last breath, when we roll
 
in Wordsworth’s breaking waves on the constant sands,
from one life to the shores of another.
 
Here, I wake. Canary Wharf is a mirror of pink on the horizon
blazing into a new day.
 
 
 
    …have sight of that immortal sea… And hear the mighty waters rolling evermore.
    Ode: Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood,
    William Wordsworth
 

Janet Hatherley

published in Under the Radar, Issue 26, The Change Issue, Autumn 2020.
ISSN 1758-3357

 
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The clock test and other regrets

Regret 1
not remembering whether we kissed goodbye at the kitchen door
 
Regret 2
your best friend and the paramedics
couldn’t bring you back to life
 
Regret 3
being at West Lodge Arboretum at the exact time of your dying
 
Regret 4
not knowing for four hours
 
Regret 5
everywhere the sun shone
 
Regret 6
your dying in Eastbourne caused problems
for the clerk at Haringey Register Office
 
Regret 7
outside the Registrar’s window
the wedding party smiled for photos in the sun
 
Regret 8
six weeks passing
 
Regret 9
not taking my blood pressure seriously enough
 
Regret 10
you weren’t there at my hospital bedside
after the stroke
 
Regret 11
not working out the change
from a coffee at Costa as the therapist watched
 
Regret 12
I forgot how to draw a clock
 

Janet Hatherley

Highly Commended and published in anthology The Ver Prize, 2022, ISBN 978-1-7397719-1-1

 
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