Family Tree in Autumn

They say people in my family carry crazy
like they carry fresh vegetables
or the laundry
or kids on their shoulders.

They carry the seeds for a garden
in shades of blue and grey
monochromatic flowers
that resist the hues of the setting sun.

My aunt is getting divorced
and that’s a good thing
(for her husband)
no more crazy bitch.

But I know how nice
the kitchen tiles feel at night.

She never seemed that bad.
She was just going through
something
something far worse than
losing a pound note.
She runs now
don’t they know why.

I wonder how they talk about me
and my thing
my time away
my little pills
they would say it’s ok
because I did well at school
and I have a partner.
I’m not like the rest of them
they would say
but
they would think
kids these days
they aren’t used to
walking miles in the snow

don’t they know I would
do that every single day
if it meant not hurting them?

By Rhys Feeney

Biography:

Rhys Feeney is a British-born poet living in Wellington, New Zealand, where he’s a recent graduate of English Literature and Film Studies from Victoria University. His work has previously appeared in blackmail press, The Rising Phoenix Review, Silver Birch Press, Murmur House and Ology Journal. He’s a cat person.