The Runner-up of the Edwin Morgan Poetry Award for 2016 is miriam nash
Two Poems | miriam nash
The seals along these rocks might be
the men who manned the boats a year before,
the bones along the shore: a girl
who lent her body as a ladder
to a King’s son
climbing down a well.
Whisper potato to potatoes,
beet to beets.
Don’t touch the carrot hair too soon.
These trees each have their name
but you may call them birch.
You make a rule now. Follow it with me.
At my Parents’ Wedding
Between the salads of quinoa and bulgur wheat,
my father’s mother slipped a whole cured ham.
All afternoon, children of vegetarians
came running with their wild, broad-bean eyes
and begged for some. A special understanding
grows between those who peer in from the edges
at the essential, middle generation, thought
my soon-to-be-grandmother, as she carved.