More about Magpie's Nest
In midwinter, deep in the pandemic, my wild, imaginative, extraordinary child began to fall to pieces. It was the start of a new understanding that changed everything I thought I knew about my family.
Magpie's Nest is about how everyday moments become a territory of love and suffering for the family of a child with Autistm, and how a diagnosis can open up new perceptions of what is inherited and what needs to be relearned.
Clare Starling, Summer 2023
Praise for Magpie's Nest
'What a great collection. These poems are a love song from a mother to a son. Unique verses written with great perception and sensitivity. Visceral poetry, conjuring a world particular and familiar to anyone in the neurodiverse community.'
Henry Normal
'A profoundly beautiful collection – original, full of love, warmth, wisdom and understanding of difference.'
Chrys Salt
'Tender, poignant, beautiful.'
Mandy Pannett - praise for award-winning poem Autistic Weather
£1 from the sale of each copy is donated to the Centre for ADHD and Autism Support (CAAS)
More information about autism can be found at www.autism.org.uk
poems from magpie's nest
Autistic Weather
A storm bursts in
it rolls you on the sofa
spraying rain
your hair thrashed into tangles
you shudder under
terrors of endless sleet
I coax you with cold chicken
like a half-drowned feral cat
Once on dry ground, you sniff at
a boiled egg, accept
a packet of Wotsits
and a passion fruit
warm and fed
you start singing
something cloudless
of your own creation
your weather is devastating
all I can do is forecast
put up storm boards for you
sweep up your broken glass
The Bee Saver
You always spot tired bees
and then we can’t move on
until I’ve got out my card holder
they clamber on, waving their feelers
we scout for flowers between
brick walls and spiny city planting
into this untended patch
of mallow and borage
crawls the bee
early spring, you saw one
on the way to school
I could not rush you past
I offered it my card. It roused itself
climbed on and rode with me
I made up sugar water
tipped the damp bee until it rested
one weightless leg upon my finger
leaned in, unrolled its tongue
drank its miniscule fill
I left it in a patch of sun
in an hour the bee had gone
perhaps a queen waking
from her winter sleep
to begin a new nest
you were so proud of me
you called me The Bee Saver
I think it was the honour of my life
Proximity Sensors
You linger, interleaved in complicated worries
in the secret fogged-up space
of our family car
I always say how beautiful the park trees look
so when your mind lets up its fierce grip
you might see them too
You say you won’t get out. I wonder
if the two of us will be here until dawn
if I can’t find the words
Suddenly you shoulder your impossible bag
struggle the door open, set off
the car’s proximity sensors
as you slide past the nearside
too close, take on the dangerous
crossing - and you’re gone
the car feels your absence, a hurt space
the rest of my life I will be learning
to let you go