Jane Seyes

Jane Seyes hangs from the handle of the puppet cabinet in our sitting-room. She’s there awaiting a garment, though I’ve been through three dozen changes of mind about what it might be. All this while every day looking at her and finding myself moved by her nakedness, and wondering whether the scene during which I’d envisaged her in a nightgown/slip, might be better played out with her rumpled bed-sheet as coverlet/shawl/shroud.

‘He was in the garden when I coughed up blood.

I sat up, watched the shocking scarlet

soak the bone-white coverlet. Washing it,

I saw him blanch. ‘

Jane Seyes in The Mare’s Tale 

3 thoughts on “Jane Seyes

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