Marka Rifat

Stonehaven, Scotland

Marka Rifat began creative writing after careers in journalism and public relations. She performs her poetry and fiction and her short plays have been semi-staged. This year, her work is in Rattle, Lines+Stars, Northwords Now, Twisted Vine, The Ear, Grey Hen, Lockdown Lore and the San Joaquin review and further work is due to appear in GreenPrints and Tangletree. In 2019, she was in anthologies included Arachne Press, Black Bough Poetry and Doric Literature Portal.

Poem written 28 May 2020

Death/bed

When I was a child, I played as a child,

with my little friends and toys. Imagination made

a bed an ocean, a cardboard box a palace.

Now I am a mother, I play “wash hands”, with my child,

And the “stay indoors”, “don’t touch” and “isolation” games.

We innovate and wait in our three-room world.

Cardboard, after one day’s exile, becomes alive again –

our motorboat, fast car, airplane, escape pod.

If we play well, we will never lie on Gomez

ABC Displays’ thin bed, or see it fold, 1-2-3, into our bier.

I hold our lives too dear for the cheapest casket.