Seville bright, this morning’s sun grins,
rolls her confident complement
against January skies. Let me zest
what I can, then knife through
fluff thickened pith, to score
an acid-sore aroma, studded in pips.
I finger out segments, let nip
juices loch onto boards then cut,
need to keep this essence, not slight
that necessary sharp under sicken-sweet
covers. A season keens, pierces high
through any resistance of frost.
Beth McDonough studied Silversmithing at Glasgow School of Art, teaching Art in various sectors. Completing an M.Litt in Writing Study and Practice at Dundee University, she was Writer in Residence at Dundee Contemporary Arts (2014-16). She reviews for Dundee University Review of the Arts (DURA). Her poetry is strongly connected to place, particularly the Tay where she swims. Handfast (with Ruth Aylett, Mother’s Milk Books, 2016), explored the effect of her son’s autism on the family; in parallel Aylett considered her mother’s dementia. McDonough’s work is published in journals and anthologised widely. She continues to work in an intermedial way.