Poetry Magazines - The best collection of poetry magazines online - Simon Armitage

1. Rachel to Leah

No, my dear sister,
forgive me but I cannot
come today to tend your baby.
I know your belly swells
with Jacob's newest son,
the day is hot,
you find it hard to move
and he is not at home.
Of course, I'm happy that you hatch
a tribe of sons to be your joy - and his,
to comfort you when you are old.
And I have seen him smile
on you when you give suck
and curl your baby's finger round his own.
But no, I cannot come.
The fleeces are piled high
and I must wash and wash
and comb the wool until it's
fine and soft as curds.
So, no. I cannot come today.
I cannot come.

2. Leah to Rachel

I understand of course
about the fleeces. You'll
recall I taught you how
to tell the finest, pick the skin
till it is clean.

                      I understand
you cannot come.

                      My baby thrives.
He walks, he has two teeth
and loves to feel his brother
growing under my flesh. But still
his father is not here. Jacob is not here.
I have no word.

                      The older boys are wild
but learn to tend and hunt.
Reuben longs to show his father
how dogs obey his call. But Jacob
is not here. I have not heard.
Have you?

                      There are robbers,
bandits, dangers of all kinds and boys
need fathers. Have you heard?

                                            Forgive me
if I should not ask you, Rachel,
but I know that if he thinks
of any one of us it will be you.
Yours is the one thing I have not.

3. Leah to Jacob

My dear, Reuben setting off today
I thought I'd send a line
with news and bits of shopping
I forgot to mention as you left.
I hope the selling has gone well
and prices good. There's little news
from here. Gad has cut his first tooth,
Simeon's been fighting, split his lip.
Levi wandered off again. We found him
lost and shivering in starlight, no idea
why he'd gone off. My father's well
but fretful. Zilpah's son sucks strongly
but wants a name. Perhaps you can
give thought to this on your return.
Please bring sweet oil, fruits,
dry fish and almonds; a gold band,
a tabret, whatever you can find.
I have been working at a stack
of wool, spinning every day till dark.
Please look for dyes, the deepest
to be had. Send Reuben to the merchants,
let him barter, he has a cunning tongue
but bring home blue and green, vermilion,
purples - I've a many-coloured weave
in mind. Perhaps when you are home
I'll leave my tub and stool.
Weaving is a solitary thing
and I will not be solitary
when you are home.

4. Rachel to Jacob

Why are you not here?
I wait and wait for you.
You should be in my arms,
the hard flame of you
searing me like a burning blade.
Your letters tantalise,
bringing me your thoughts
like tongues that lick and lick
coupling with my thoughts
bringing us to bed, this bed
we make our festival.
Why are you not here
with your heavy flesh,
your harsh man's breath,
your thumbs pressing my breasts?
I want your heat.
Come back. Come now.
Let me please you.
Out of such pleasure
as I will make you,
as we will make,
something must
some day
come.