by Priya Logan
queen
you dreamed
a thousand yellow-black foundlings
sucking space
from your bedroom floor
exposed by moon
they danced
unblanketed
you held your breath
listening
to whispered codes
all woman but not
your thorax began to fur
you grew feelers
drummed your belly
added yourself piece by piece
to the tribe
dusted with spring knowing
and a soft magnetic oneness
you flexed your wings
Sarah Harrison Reid lives in and loves the beauty of Scotland. She has an MA in Creative Writing (with Distinction). Inspired by nature, love and loss, she has always written poetry. Being both ginger and autistic have also defined her. She has been published in Poetry Scotland, Dreich, Another North, and Keep Yer Heid.
Priya Logan is a mother of three growing children, who gardens, writes and draws sporadically to declutter the strands of thoughts that get intermingled with hers. She loves connecting with people, learning about divergent ideas and pottering with discarded objects. Watercolour is an exciting medium that she is sometimes intimidated by but always draws her in.