Two Poems by Ellie Rose McKee

Paper Hands

You hear about tennis
elbow and swimmer’s ear,
but have you ever felt the
hands of a poet?

Touched the dry softness of skin
that’s had all its oil absorbed
by journals and notecards,
letters and books –

any available surface that
would give or receive words –
veins showing through paper-thin
skin, in which the ink flows?


The Mountain

The mountain grows, day on day
Its shadow tacked to the souls of my feet

I climb
I fall
I crawl
and bleed

Every step away from submit makes the trek harder
Each new attempt is folly

 

Ellie is a writer from Northern Ireland. She has had a number of poems and short stories published and has been blogging for over ten years, since her time at university. Currently, Ellie is seeking representation for her debut novel. She lives in Belfast with her husband.

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