Virtue
Hannah Roche
For Emma...
This earth must annul ascension and so
we descend. In London, Emma wrote
daily of how he left; in the wake of his
flight, she stayed behind to tend to life
and plants. Across the globe, his palms
forced out fear as he searched an empty
sky. Flowers and herbs, thankful for Emma’s
words, flourished under tears and careful
hand. From afar, his clouded eyes found
only that he had lost her.
Alone, Emma wrote. By night, she
stitched fairytales from books and dreams
and laced the seams with virtue. Once, a trail
of birds dropped through the skylight; one
by one, she tamed their feathers and gently
coaxed their lungs into song. The next day,
Emma climbed high into her castle to set
the birds free. As music and wings filled the
horizon, she saw his firmament fall at her feet.
When Emma felt his heart turn to ash in her hand,
she drank in her heaven and sang.
Listen to Hannah read the poem here:
For Emma...
This earth must annul ascension and so
we descend. In London, Emma wrote
daily of how he left; in the wake of his
flight, she stayed behind to tend to life
and plants. Across the globe, his palms
forced out fear as he searched an empty
sky. Flowers and herbs, thankful for Emma’s
words, flourished under tears and careful
hand. From afar, his clouded eyes found
only that he had lost her.
Alone, Emma wrote. By night, she
stitched fairytales from books and dreams
and laced the seams with virtue. Once, a trail
of birds dropped through the skylight; one
by one, she tamed their feathers and gently
coaxed their lungs into song. The next day,
Emma climbed high into her castle to set
the birds free. As music and wings filled the
horizon, she saw his firmament fall at her feet.
When Emma felt his heart turn to ash in her hand,
she drank in her heaven and sang.
Listen to Hannah read the poem here:
Working notes
For a woman whose occupation is to write, a state of preoccupation is entirely necessary. To be preoccupied denotes an endless becoming, a pursuit of a goal that remains frustratingly out of reach.
As women, we are always ‘pre’. Pre-menstrual, pregnant, pre-menopausal. And we must, of course, be pretty. We occupy our minds – in the same way that we occupy our houses – with rigour and order, but we cannot prevent the dirt from seeping in. We linger in the darkest places.
Which is why we continue to scour, and continue to write.
Importantly, a woman’s preoccupation does not lead to inactivity or ineptitude: the woman in my poem is consumed by a shattering loss yet still remembers to water the plants. That is, after all, what women do.
As women, we are always ‘pre’. Pre-menstrual, pregnant, pre-menopausal. And we must, of course, be pretty. We occupy our minds – in the same way that we occupy our houses – with rigour and order, but we cannot prevent the dirt from seeping in. We linger in the darkest places.
Which is why we continue to scour, and continue to write.
Importantly, a woman’s preoccupation does not lead to inactivity or ineptitude: the woman in my poem is consumed by a shattering loss yet still remembers to water the plants. That is, after all, what women do.
About the author
Hannah Roche is a PhD student at the University of Leeds, UK. Hannah’s research, funded by the AHRC, is an exploration into the various functions of distance, displacement, and dislocation in Modernist lesbian writing.
Having lived and studied in Glasgow, Bordeaux, and Brighton, Hannah is now settled in West Yorkshire, England with her family and fiancée Sarah. Her favorite poem, by far, is Gertrude Stein’s "Lifting Belly."
http://www.leeds.ac.uk/arts/people/20040/school_of_english/person/1910/hannah_roche.
Having lived and studied in Glasgow, Bordeaux, and Brighton, Hannah is now settled in West Yorkshire, England with her family and fiancée Sarah. Her favorite poem, by far, is Gertrude Stein’s "Lifting Belly."
http://www.leeds.ac.uk/arts/people/20040/school_of_english/person/1910/hannah_roche.