From her newly published collection The Bone Library, our poem of the week is ‘Morning Rituals’. Read the poem, and listen to Jenni reading it, below.

Morning Rituals
Getting dressed
in the morning

is a ritual
that begins

wan as a
Midwinter sun,

cars on cobbles,
bump-bump

like a minaret drum,
the body bends . . .

like a gnarled bough
on the willow

tiredness won’t leave
on waking –

it just intensifies,
all day long.

I’m porcelain cold,
imperceptible in my sorrow,

shower steams the mirror
like a sigh,

still, got twenty-eight teeth
to shine,

hair reticent
to detangle,

a face to smooth
like each day

does not daunt
and nightmares don’t walk.

Amber and ginger lily
sweeten my surrender

to another outside world affray,
front door opens

like a yawn,
go ahead now my girl,

turn the key –
these are the morning

rituals of me.