I Have Learned Nothing

Poem

Dec 3

Written By Judith Kingston

I have learned nothing of love.

Only perhaps that it glows brighter in the dark

That neither sharp-toothed malice

Nor the slow strong push towards the edge

Can ever plunge it to its death

I have learned nothing of love.

Only that neither open skies and whipping wind

Nor the driving rain nor desperate tug,

Nor snatching thorns or twining wood,

Can ever whisk it from your gentle hold.

I have learned nothing of love.

I still find it crumpled, torn, shoved in draughty cracks

Used as kindling, lining bins, grease-stained

Smudged, mouldy, sifted, drained, congealed —

In all my years, I have learned nothing of love.

Only that when night falls and day will never wake

And you are ground and rotting in the ground,

When promises and lies bleed and blend —

Then still it will be

forever

bright.

Cover photo by Bernadetta Watts

12/21

Judith Kingston

Besides writing poetry, Judith Kingston teaches, translates and dispenses terrible advice. Her work has appeared in a number of magazines including Barren Magazine, Riggwelter, Twist in Time and Kissing Dynamite as well as the Broken Sleep Anthology Crossing Lines. Her microchap Mother is the Name for God (2020) was published by Ghost City Press.

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