Maiden Castle by Kathryn Anna Marshall




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