Saskia Maddock. It was a pleasure to have met Saskia at the Eden Mills Writers' Festival in September of 2011.
Every now and then, this book finds it's way to my hands and I read a sampling of poems. I find it intriguing that the same poem can have a very different impact on me depending on my mood, time of day and overall situation I find myself in. For me, most books are a read once item, once I finish the story, I am done, but poetry books are a repeat read. I don't usually read cover to cover, but in bits and bites. A little bit here and now and perhaps a totally different selection the next time I open that volume.
This morning it was the following poem that stopped me. I am left pondering who or what is that dragon. Depression or alcoholism.
It lies in the corner, in the darkness, breathing softly, quietly
Its presence a comfort---almost...
It slumbers seemingly dead to the world but not to me
I sense it waiting patiently, biding its time
I know it wants me; I feel its need
The awful familiarity of its fire pulling on my soul if I let it,
its tongue flicking ever so gently against the muscles of my belly,
that haunting warmth spreading through me, shockingly
recognizable even after all this time...
I must stand vigilant against the dragon,
against its subtle emissaries who strive to break me;
it drowses quietly in the corner...
I keep watch.