This time of year smoke renews
– from bonfires in unseen gardens,
it flows grey-green across boundaries.
My son is green in his knowledge,
his uniform green, his love
green-grey as unboundaried smoke.
This time of year his growth renews
just as autumn is throwing out hers
– done with spring, summer,
done with holding up
all those leaves, done
holding on to each tiny seed.
Smoke needn’t be a warning,
it can be an invitation –
the homestead is within your scent.
The hero in this poem
throws invisible smoke bombs
to exit a room mysteriously.
From the school gates I spy him
on the open field
– pouf, he’s gone.
–
Heidi Williamson is Royal Literary Fund Fellow at the University of East Anglia. She teaches for The Poetry School, Poetry Society, National Centre for Writing, and The Writing Coach. Her two award-winning Bloodaxe collections are The Print Museum and Electric Shadow. Her third collection, Return by Minor Road, is due out from Bloodaxe in April 2020.