Here’s more poetry from movement, some of it from 2012 I think:

 Foot Poem

I sit

A nurturing place

My foot needs no longer

Support the world

Rest my little one

Be loved.

Chalk Island

Bony chalk pathways of twisty formations

The Land builds from undersea.

Their shells, its bones.

Our feet find the path.

I am the Land.

My knees take me out into the open.

My elbows find a hollow way.

I turn, I twist, I lay myself just so.

My teeth are a gate.

 She turns, she twists

 She lays herself just so.

 Her jaw is a weather vane.

 She tastes the wind.

All front!

I thought my body flat

All front and no depth.

God! She’s got a lot of front!

Don’t get my back up!

She’s not backwards in coming forward.

She’s all arse backwards!

Put on a brave front!

Where is my frontanella?

Let your wings fly little beetle,

Scapular coverings unfolding

To reveal lacy fronds

That buzz and quiver and

Impossibly carry your horned shiny blackness.

They fill the back of your body

And open and close

And open and close

And carry you any everywhere.

A soft-shelled creature

My shell, my splitting soft shell.

My mother is dying.

I hold her, she is warm.

I am flesh, deep pink,

Gristly flesh inside spongy carapace

I am

I am

I am

I am

Clawed hand touches fragile skin

I give heat to coldness

Singing my heart

Me-spine.

My spine stands me

I grow to my feet

Heels dig in and root.

How am I here?

Abdomen

Full of everything.

I grow down.