Two Poems by Rebecca Watts

Running the Planet Trail

2.8 billion miles still to go. Something
is slipping. Something pulls.

Under the dual carriageway I witness parallels:
my concrete hamstrings, its tattooed struts.

O east-west artery, shade me; I can’t take the heat.

I should’ve stopped at Mars with its anklet of beer cans and vapes.
I should’ve backtracked to Venus.

Yesterday in the cathedral I saw tourists with headphones
crawling all over St Frideswide’s shrine

while on the north wall a map of Ukraine
beaconed its colours to anyone capable of feeling.

The prayer cards on the wrought-iron tree said ‘My niece’ and ‘My godson’
and ‘exam stress’ and ‘a hole in his heart’. The sun sloped in.

Light a candle while the soldiers bank and dive.
Light a hundred candles while they cover their ears.

Names, names, names. Knees, knees, knees.
How big and alive we are! And then.

Reprogram the audio-guides. Pray to your god for a well,
a cooling rain. Should I go on?

In the lee of a fisherman, two young rabbits shiny with dew.
A collared dove some way past Jupiter.

Song

Dolphin is the soul
before the world gets to her

joy’s missile
shadowing the hull

            dipping and rising
till we see what she’s made of

            smiling and whole
saying come on, dive in!

Dolphin is the soul
before all life’s stuff

chairless and deskless
and wild as the air

a swimming song
oh happy child!

I met her once
upon a bright blue day

            before the fishermen
rolled out their nets

Rebecca Watts is the author of two poetry collections, The Met Office Advises Caution (2016) and Red Gloves (2020), and editor of Elizabeth Jennings: New Selected Poems (2019), all published by Carcanet.