Kathryn Anna Marshall has been writing poetry forever but has only recently made the leap from scribbling furtive notes on the backs of envelopes to sending her poetry into the world, since her diagnosis with M.E.
Kathryn is inspired by goings-on inside and outside her head and loves the puzzle of putting feelings onto a page. She mainly writes poetry, but also enjoys working with short short fiction and relishes the challenge of producing a good story in one hundred words. She has one publication to date, in Mslexia magazine as part of their Autumn showcase, and work is forthcoming in Riggwelter and Salt Water Soul.
Maiden Castle
mist clings but does not soak
breathe in and feel it spread like spores
you cannot grasp you float
turn to face the ghost filled fields
strain to see the other path
mist clings but does not soak
needle whispers still come through and
circle scuffed up shoes
you cannot grasp you float
draw up to all your three foot ten
tension power rise
mist clings but does not soak
imagine that you are not seen
stare through the whisperers’ glare
you cannot grasp you float
mist is Latvian for home yours
is the edge ahead behind
mist clings but does not soak
you cannot grasp you float
Kathryn Anna Marshall