Quarry by Alvy Carragher

Poem title: Quarry Poet Name: Alvy Carragher Poem begins: My mother brings me up to see the hunt, horns blast across the land as she points out the scurry of dogs, horses giving chase, a fox so slight I can’t make it out. Before it was a jagged slope, cold shadow on our yard, now the quarry calls my name. I long to see the world turned miniature again—cottage shrunk, siblings specks, parents sudden dots. I want wind scattered thoughts as dramas play out beneath me. Out of bounds, I go when the adults are distracted, hauling myself through the scratch of brambles, until the thicket breaks, and the world spreads out in a patchwork of fields. It’s no longer enough, I bring my older cousin up to see, she acts bored as we inch closer to the edge. She dares me to lower my body from the ledge. Chicken is a word they sing to me at school, but this is my territory. I ease my body over, legs dangling as I face sheer rock, think of bone scraping scree. Only her mouth gawping above me matters, silent, I chew the names of my saints. She gives in, tugs me up. Back on soft grass, I’m thankful for everything, taking off through bramble, my footsteps bless each familiar stone. End of Poem. Credits: Copyright © Alvy Carragher Alvy Carragher is an Irish poet based in Toronto. She has published three books. Her most recent poetry book “the men I keep under my bed” was published by Salmon Poetry, as was her debut collection of poetry, “Falling in love with broken things”. Her poetry has appeared in various anthologies, literary websites and publications such as The Irish Times, Poetry Ireland Review, The Guardian, and The Galway Review. You can find out more about her work at www.alvycarragher.com