About the poet
Polly Clark was born in Toronto, Canada and brought up in Lancashire, Cumbria and the Borders of...
Its leg was not broken. It was not homeless.
It clenched in my hands, a living flinch.
You cannot love so much and live,
it whispered, its spines clicking like teeth.
I hid it from itself in a cardboard box.
Overnight it nibbled a hole and slipped away.
I cried so much my mother thought I’d never stop.
She said, you cannot love so – and yet
I grew to average size and amused a lot of people
with my prickliness and brilliant escapes.
from Take Me With You (Bloodaxe Books, 2005), © Polly Clark 2005, used by permission of the author and the publisher.
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