Hello!
I’m Emma Ormond
Poet
An entomologist
An explorer
of words in nature
Poetry
Heritage
I have inherited your cosmic purple carrots
hollow crown parsnips
and bleu solaise leeks,
I pull them from your garden
on the day of your funeral
fearful that Mrs Davis down the street
will harvest them in the night,
I can’t let people take parts of you
even though I’ve said goodbye to your body.
At home my muddy haul
stains tablecloth and worktops,
I begin to clean and cut
blackcurrant coins of carrots,
sandalwood chunks of parsnip,
oil, sea salt and under the grill
where they soften
the lump still in my throat.
I toast our last meal with red wine,
taste comfort in roots
that have spent more time with you
than I have lately,
Imagine you laughing at the vicar’s face
when I told him there would be no headstone
and planted Glaskins perpetual rhubarb on your grave.
Awards & Achievements
Heritage
Special Mention, Bournmouth Writing Prize, 2021
