stdClass Object
(
    [ID] => 18900
    [post_author] => 23
    [post_date] => 2018-05-04 09:25:24
    [post_date_gmt] => 2018-05-04 09:25:24
    [post_content] => nearly made you a bird, but the
feathers wouldn’t fit together so i became
frustrated, feeling futility in my hands instead of
wings. nearly held on anyway.

nearly cried that first day but someone
had to be the strong one. swallowed
the sadness with a cup of tea and a pinch
of salt. nearly coughed up the sea.

nearly hooked myself up to your
IV drip, as if to tether us together, nearly
wrapped myself in it like a blanket
of saline solution, like it was all i had.

(which it was)

nearly made blueprints, nearly built a whole
world, all churches and cafes like in
Wimbledon Village, like we always dreamed.
we always dreamed, but i couldn’t do it alone.

nearly wrote your birthday card, but
it would have been a waste of
paper. i bought you a bouquet
instead, you always liked roses.

nearly said goodbye but i was
just a little girl and you flew away
so fast that neither of us could
catch our breath.
    [post_title] => this is not a letter but my arms around you for a brief moment
    [post_excerpt] => 
    [post_status] => publish
    [comment_status] => closed
    [ping_status] => closed
    [post_password] => 
    [post_name] => this-is-not-a-letter-but-my-arms-around-you-for-a-brief-moment
    [to_ping] => 
    [pinged] => 
    [post_modified] => 2018-10-17 13:19:14
    [post_modified_gmt] => 2018-10-17 13:19:14
    [post_content_filtered] => 
    [post_parent] => 0
    [guid] => http://poems.poetrysociety.org.uk/?post_type=poems&p=18900
    [menu_order] => 0
    [post_type] => poems
    [post_mime_type] => 
    [comment_count] => 0
    [filter] => raw
    [meta_data] => stdClass Object
        (
            [wpcf-published-in] => 
            [wpcf-date-published] => 2018
            [wpcf-summary-description] => This poem is the third-prize winner in the Nearlyology challenge on Young Poets Network (YPN) in 2018.

The title is taken from a letter by Katherine Mansfield.
            [wpcf-rights-information] => 
            [wpcf-poem-award] => 3rd prize winner, Nearlyology challenge
            [wpcf_pr_belongs] => 
        )

    [poet_data] => stdClass Object
        (
            [ID] => 16715
            [forename] => 
            [surname] => 
            [title] => Marina McCready
            [slug] => marina-mccready
            [content] => Marina is a top 15 winner of the Foyle Young Poets of the Year Award 2017, and a commended poet in the Foyle Young Poets of the Year Award 2016 and 2015. She is a 3rd prize winner in the Nearlyology challenge on Young Poets Network and is highly commended in the Timothy Corsellis Prize 2017; she is commended in the 2018 August challenge #4 on using the vernacular in poetry and the Civilisation and Its Discontents challenge on Young Poets Network, inspired by Freud's work of the same name; she is also the winner of the Greys Court Palimpsest Poetry Challenge.
        )

)
stdClass Object
(
    [ID] => 16715
    [forename] => 
    [surname] => 
    [title] => Marina McCready
    [slug] => marina-mccready
    [content] => Marina is a top 15 winner of the Foyle Young Poets of the Year Award 2017, and a commended poet in the Foyle Young Poets of the Year Award 2016 and 2015. She is a 3rd prize winner in the Nearlyology challenge on Young Poets Network and is highly commended in the Timothy Corsellis Prize 2017; she is commended in the 2018 August challenge #4 on using the vernacular in poetry and the Civilisation and Its Discontents challenge on Young Poets Network, inspired by Freud's work of the same name; she is also the winner of the Greys Court Palimpsest Poetry Challenge.
)

this is not a letter but my arms around you for a brief moment

Marina McCready

nearly made you a bird, but the
feathers wouldn’t fit together so i became
frustrated, feeling futility in my hands instead of
wings. nearly held on anyway.

nearly cried that first day but someone
had to be the strong one. swallowed
the sadness with a cup of tea and a pinch
of salt. nearly coughed up the sea.

nearly hooked myself up to your
IV drip, as if to tether us together, nearly
wrapped myself in it like a blanket
of saline solution, like it was all i had.

(which it was)

nearly made blueprints, nearly built a whole
world, all churches and cafes like in
Wimbledon Village, like we always dreamed.
we always dreamed, but i couldn’t do it alone.

nearly wrote your birthday card, but
it would have been a waste of
paper. i bought you a bouquet
instead, you always liked roses.

nearly said goodbye but i was
just a little girl and you flew away
so fast that neither of us could
catch our breath.