Sue Leigh Poetry




I kneel

at the sea’s edge


a lens, milky opal,

its sex a mauve flower


its short tentacles

might be buds, leaves –

stranded, out of its element

it has lost its lightness,

like the mermaid’s purse

I carry home,


its patent leather

already dulling,

the dry chink

of shells in my pocket

From Her Orchards, 2021