by jessicagartlandn

I love this poem. I feel like each stanza peels away, Much like the idea the poem itself addresses.

Little Weir

Plain stripes;
Damask of blue;
Floral repeating pattern;
Wider stripes in green;
Fern leaves overlapping.
Layers of wallpaper hidden
for years, left as a lazy
reminder. One piled onto
another in a mesh of history.
Drag a nail deep enough,
carving through a family
and then another to reach
the final image.
Revealed only to the one
determined to look closely.

This was a part of my Three Random Words project using the words “carving, mesh, wallpaper” and it was inspired by the range of wallpaper that you see in National Trust properties, in particular how all of the layers have built up over time and the history that each layer must have seen.

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