SET FREE


WONDERLAND*
(for Liza)

The pain that impelled her to the clinic
was in fact a summons
to the Madhatter’s Party without tea
or doctoring
Shrove Tuesday – any day
avoiding the necessity of Lent and abstinence
from cups of tea   Each night – pancakes
and Anglican children scamper round
and round her house
And though she
never gave permission – of that I am sure
those naughty children will not
stay outside  but come to dance
upon her bed
Her Walter’s refrain: Nothing’s
there Old Fruit holds no conviction – for
on every surface – handkerchiefs
both emerald and green
The Cheshire cat (smile
and all) forgets
how to vanish
Her Kindergarten mistress wrote:
... our Miss Betty makes it clear she does
not suffer fools
She laughed at fairies then
and the ones who play around her now
bring mirth and smiles and all
good things but one
There is no rest and when
others tread without due care and clutter
the air with words; the dancers shy
away and peep from cushions, out
of blinds or swim unseen

among the flowers   However
on every surface – handkerchiefs
green  squares the breadth
of a toenail
Fuss and fret Family
and friends – fuss and fret
way back there
while she is off
following the white rabbit
who has thrown away time
In her search
for where she is going though no one
ever tells where that
might be
there is no space to shed tears
for those lacking   dementia’s eyes
Kathryn Hamann
• This poem was the winner of the Poetica Christi Press 2003
Poetry Competition

PILGRIMAGE, U.S.A.*

They cannot trace you.
In that obscurity of M.I.A.’s
you are a number
a name on a list
a bracelet on some child’s arm.

It is only here that I find you
touch the angled edges
of you in this stark wall.

I come to embrace
your name with cramped fingers
clutch at you on granite
in grief-thick air.

Reflecting on you
I am slashed by burning light
you are carved in remembrance
but your bright substance bleeds
into emptiness.

Hold me again
find me in dreams.
Here in this silence
where the names rise
like piled bodies

remember me.

Margaret Campbell
• This poem was the Runner-Up in the 2003 Poetica Christi Press
Poetry Competition