The Fisherman’s Bride
Light glances off the polished wood.
The wheel is salvaged always
and lives where possible.
The wreckage makes a collection box.
In time odd pieces float
in to the glass of the museum.
The fisherman’s bride in the corner
wears silk stiff as bones.
Wind and salt are peeling
the skin off the beach.
The fisherman’s bride is dressed
in the colours of the sea.
© 2019 Carolyn Oulton. First publication https://www.placesofpoetry.org.uk/
Professor of Victorian Literature at Cantebury Christ Church University. Publications incllude Accidental Fruit (Worple Press).