Winner of Writing East Midlands Solstice Prize for Young Writers 2021.
Removing caterpillars from my Grandfather’s cabbages
I detach them gently
green, hungry, velveteen -
they have only my heart now to eat
he said to burst them with my thumb
feel their trapped bodies split, rich juices spill
tarnishing fingertips
or throw them for the fish, see them writhe
break the surface, curl themselves into ammonite fists
pulsing as they slowly sink
but I imagine their wings, useless and creased underneath
I picture the day they rupture, break free
unfurl their origami folds, fly away
and I don’t want this dominion over death -
to condemn these unfledged hopes
to an end.