Sophie Duggan

Whit Sunday by Sophie Duggan

in Esotericism/Faith/Poetry/Spirituality



Whit Sunday

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Crows: flicked ink on albino pavements 

Scissoring the evening air  

Children go home from coloured spinning metal 

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Beneath a peal of toy-church bells  

Orbs of sound, they’d be pale pink and scattered 

Across the patient hills, the combed-out fields 

.

And the sycamore trees hold out their hands  

Like open palms, as if to say 

We’ve tried, we’ve done our best. Make of it what you will. 

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All poetry deals in paradox. To capture the fraying-points of perception, Sophie Duggan’s work draws on a wide span of influences. These include her medical training (she works as a writer & researcher), the Bucks countryside, and mythic imagery.
In so doing, she hopes to shine a light on some of the less-visited elements of human experience, including in particular the female voice and its power to disrupt.