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Our Lady; Pieta
Poetry by Janet Fisher

Women Who Dye Their Hair by Janet Fisher

Listening to Dancing by Janet Fisher


You might, if you wanted, step from this window
onto the roof, walk across slates to other windows,
other rooms, or rest on the wooden chair

by the tub of camellias. The wind might be blowing leaves
across your stained boards, and always or sometimes
rain might shine on the panes and the distant trees.

She’ll be out in the city somewhere
but she’ll have left her scarf hanging on a hook.
A bird might pick from crumbs you’d thrown it

and beyond the houses the bells of Our Lady
might be summoning you into the clammy air.


(along the road past Enna)

dry terraces
mountains beyond
the city built on a hilltop
sends messages to herdsmen
across gulleys and olive groves

dried gulleys slicing
the face of the mountains

rocks of thunder
cannon round the bus

heart dry
she holds her son
a long way off
a lightning charge
between them

sun sets into a white sky
behind the crags
she clings to
like a charm

Copyright © Janet Fisher 2003

Janet Fisher is co-director of The Poetry Business (Smith/Doorstop Books and The North magazine) in Huddersfield. She has had two full

collections published: Listening to Dancing, and Women Who Dye Their Hair. These are obtainable from The Poetry Business.

This poetry may not be archived or distributed further without the author’s express permission. Please read the license.

This electronic version of Our Lady; Pieta is published by The Richmond Review by arrangement with the author. For rights information, contact The Richmond Review in the first instance


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