Poem by Daisy Edwards
May 15, 2023
There is a tree in a museum
There is a tree in a museum, sorry, what I mean to say is that there’s a bolt of lightning in this rib cage and they’re being cooked from the inside, no, what I meant was all the clocks have stopped in this marble of mine. The bark, long waxed and stained by sun light and sticky fingers, stops the minute hands in their predictable dance. Stops the ocean of footsteps, stops the tired parents, the even more exhausted toddlers. Stops them all. Stops everything. We taste ozone here and ash and axe steal and we want to scrape our tongues, sorry, that’s a bit gross, isn’t it? We want to taste it properly, we do, we do, we want to know everything this tree saw, smell everything its bark forgot. I know it’s impossible, but we would be fools not to try.
About Daisy Edwards
Daisy Edwards is an autistic, bisexual writer based in Birmingham, UK. Her poems have been published in Porridge Magazine, Swim Press, Free Verse Revolution, Ram Eye Press, and Seaglass Lit.