MARI WEBB

★ ★ ★ ★

POETRY

Eve Speaks to the Serpent

You lied. We needed the fruit
but should have waited until it ripened.
As it was, we made the world sick.
I search for pain fragments, claw
at my skin until it bleeds,
then locate the source of poison
and remove the fang. The next time
I see you I will crush your head
under my heel, just as my son
crushed his brother’s skull
until the blood soaked the earth.
You won’t deceive me again.

Ariel’s Song Comes Undone

If my eyes were pearls
it would mean I was blind.
Time feels splintered. I seek
the eye of my ocean, before
I was broken and scattered
by currents, nibbled by fish
while coral reefs leached
the very calcium from my bones.
Finally I spot the shell.
Scarred and scratched
beyond recognition, it opens slowly,
as if afraid the pearl inside is gone.
In wonder I turn its creamy whiteness
to the sun filtering down deep.
Now I will flame out strong.

In Shakespeare’s ‘The Tempest’, Prospero bids the spirit, Ariel, to bring
the shipwrecked Ferdinand to him. She does this with a song, which also
refers to Ferdinand’s drowned father.

Mari Webb wrote her first (very bad) poem in Grade Four. Since then, she has enjoyed playing with words. She has more bookcases than any other furniture in her living room, but likes it that way. As well as writing, Mari has an interest in social justice and law, and likes to think that the power of the pen is versatile in many different fields.