Write whenever you need to let me know
there is ice on your hands and on the inside of the fridge.
The vegetables I brought yesterday
won’t survive more than one frost,
and neither will we.
Write whenever you need to, you may
tell me again that winter never came,
that this year there won’t be any summer,
that we are and are not here because we don’t know
whether we are us or those
four people who are going out now,
having found the right door.
Margarida Ferra’s deceptively simple and contained poetry pays careful attention to the universe of the home and, as if collecting plants for a herbarium, it both reflects the makings of life and the makings of poetry in which the metaphors for roots, branches and blossom, as well as those for thorns, knives and scissors acquire a very especial meaning.
Margarida Ferra lives in Lisbon where she works as a publisher. She has a degree in Journalism and Communication from the Universidade de Lisboa.
Poetry books since 2000:
Curso Intensivo de Jardinagem (2010), Sorte de Principiante (2013)