Last month's poem of the month writer, Carol Thistlethwaite, has chosen this month's poem. Carol says, "I enjoy the linked flow of ideas and images. They don’t impose on readers but invite them to create their own ‘story’ or whatever."

Find out more about Pam and her work at http://www.writeoutloud.net/poets/pamthompson

Electricity

I remember the house,

remember its breath,

its surfaces bleached,

turning lighter by day

yet scarred by a network

of knives, by your nails,

pale, which now scrape

at frost, score notches

on the windows of your car,

clutch at the static

which bristles between us like fur.

Remember how traffic-lights

dimmed then went out,

how your body was so brave,

there, inside its walk,

the long walk where slugs

had been, the slow weave

over intersections of weeds,

back to the house, to the shell

of your body,

to the shell of its shadow,

where our material things buzz

and where, if the noise

only dies, we are about

to re-discover electricity.