Saturday, 30 March 2024

Penny Blackburn: Whenever We Had Chopped Pork Sandwiches for Tea

My sister always asked to eat them
on the back step. As we balanced 
our brown Hornsea plates on our knees,
she would peel apart the home-baked bread,
tweezer out the filling
between disgusted fingers
and throw it into the garden
of the derelict house next door.

Flesh-pink slices sailed through the air
into the undergrowth of nettles 
and docks. Later in the year
small flowers would bloom:
London Pride. Their delicate tint
matched the meaty shades.
I thought they took their colour
from that secret compost. 
A redemption of sorts.


Penny Blackburn's poetry has featured in many journals and anthologies and she was the winner of Poetry Tyne 2023. She runs a spoken word night in Tynemouth and has released her debut collection with Yaffle Press, Gaps Made of Static