Day Moth

Seasonal. A word, perhaps, that best describes the composition of these poems. But look again: beyond the February snow, the freshening spring and the ‘painless air of summer’, to a feeling that always seems to grow. Maureen Ross weaves both human and pastoral elements, a tapestry rich in the ever-changing year. She pulls surprise with the landscape of each mood - moonlight flights or a hankering for touch, to falling words and open flowers. Indeed, the finality of death is one of open grief and sardonic realism. However, let’s not forget the humour that snowflakes in between, when writing about cheese ( at night ) or a possibly offensive T-shirt . In these honourable moments, though, it’s her love and love of nature that reigns supreme.
 

Dawn
 
the moon walks off
into the high impossible blue
 
lovers lie
watching the patterns
behind their eyelids
 
later they will
pick words like sweets from each other’s mouths
editing the night
 
now the moon has gone
leaving only its description.
 

Bio: Maureen Ross is a native of North East Scotland where she lives with her young collie dog, Moss.

Since the last instalment of this bio (somewhere on the Word Fringe, Aberdeen, May 2006) Moss has been eating less of the house. However, this is largely due to the fact that she takes him for long walks in the country all the time - and maybe that is why there is such a big nature influence in the poems. Who knows when the next instalment will be but she says it will feature a cat and two grandchildren.