Sophie Duggan

Whit Sunday by Sophie Duggan

in Esotericism/Faith/Poetry/Spirituality

Whit Sunday


Crows: flicked ink on albino pavements 

Scissoring the evening air  

Children go home from coloured spinning metal 


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. 


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.