stdClass Object
(
    [ID] => 21273
    [post_author] => 23
    [post_date] => 2020-12-04 12:59:15
    [post_date_gmt] => 2020-12-04 12:59:15
    [post_content] => In Portland we don’t use the word, we dance around it –  furry things, we’d say, the furry things are in backfield again. As a child I only knew I should never look directly at them, the same way I knew not to look at the sun. It was wrong. It would hurt later on. My grandfather called them underground mutton – the first time I heard the phrase I laughed, and he didn’t. I guess that means it’s okay to eat them. That it’s okay to roast and spit them but never see them. As an adult I learnt the fear behind the superstition – my home is always on the brink of slipping, because long ago we built mines where we shouldn’t. And, like always, nature far outshone the humans: the furry things would run before the rockfalls, the men would disappear beneath them. So when they skipped in fields en masse, bobtails flashing, we would know that somewhere below ground people were trapped, were crushed, were suffocating. We would know that when the underground mutton set to dancing, the Earth was eating the miners.
    [post_title] => [Rabbit]
    [post_excerpt] => 
    [post_status] => publish
    [comment_status] => closed
    [ping_status] => closed
    [post_password] => 
    [post_name] => rabbit
    [to_ping] => 
    [pinged] => 
    [post_modified] => 2020-12-04 16:21:55
    [post_modified_gmt] => 2020-12-04 16:21:55
    [post_content_filtered] => 
    [post_parent] => 0
    [guid] => https://poems.poetrysociety.org.uk/?post_type=poems&p=21273
    [menu_order] => 0
    [post_type] => poems
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    [meta_data] => stdClass Object
        (
            [wpcf-published-in] => 
            [wpcf-date-published] => 2020
            [wpcf-summary-description] => This poem is the third-prize winner of the People Need Nature challenge, set and judged by Gboyega Odubanjo on Young Poets Network in 2020.

Amy writes about her winning poem: “Growing up in the middle of nowhere in Dorset gave me a deep appreciation of nature, and many of my poems are inspired by the beauty and history of my home county. The inspiration for this particular poem came from Portland, where there is an amusing and moving old superstition around the word “rabbit”. Being able to bring a little bit of local colour to a wider audience is amazing, which is why I was delighted that my poem was chosen for publication in the People Need Nature challenge.”
            [wpcf-rights-information] => 
            [wpcf-poem-award] => 3rd prize, People Need Nature challenge
            [wpcf_pr_belongs] => 
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    [poet_data] => stdClass Object
        (
            [ID] => 17073
            [forename] => 
            [surname] => 
            [title] => Amy Wolstenholme
            [slug] => amy-wolstenholme
            [content] => Amy is the first prize winner in the Timothy Corsellis Prize 2016 and commended in the Timothy Corsellis Prize 2019 on Young Poets Network. She is the first prize winner in August challenge #1 on photographic poetry, written and judged by Foyle Young Poet Andrew Pettigrew in 2019; and the second prize winner in August challenge #3 on meta-poetry, written and judged by Foyle Young Poet Danique Bailey in 2019. She is also the second prize winner in Gboyega Odubanjo's People Need Nature challenge on Young Poets Network in 2020. She is the third prize winner in the Who is Giselle? poetry challenge, and a winner in the Ways to be Wilder Poetry Challenge, in association with People Need Nature. Amy is also commended in the Bletchley Park challenge judged by So Mayer; the moon poetry challenge, judged by Nii Parkes; and in August challenge #4 on the poetics of interrogation, written and judged by Foyle Young Poet Kara Jackson in 2019.
        )

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stdClass Object
(
    [ID] => 17073
    [forename] => 
    [surname] => 
    [title] => Amy Wolstenholme
    [slug] => amy-wolstenholme
    [content] => Amy is the first prize winner in the Timothy Corsellis Prize 2016 and commended in the Timothy Corsellis Prize 2019 on Young Poets Network. She is the first prize winner in August challenge #1 on photographic poetry, written and judged by Foyle Young Poet Andrew Pettigrew in 2019; and the second prize winner in August challenge #3 on meta-poetry, written and judged by Foyle Young Poet Danique Bailey in 2019. She is also the second prize winner in Gboyega Odubanjo's People Need Nature challenge on Young Poets Network in 2020. She is the third prize winner in the Who is Giselle? poetry challenge, and a winner in the Ways to be Wilder Poetry Challenge, in association with People Need Nature. Amy is also commended in the Bletchley Park challenge judged by So Mayer; the moon poetry challenge, judged by Nii Parkes; and in August challenge #4 on the poetics of interrogation, written and judged by Foyle Young Poet Kara Jackson in 2019.
)

[Rabbit]

Amy Wolstenholme

In Portland we don’t use the word, we dance around it –  furry things, we’d say, the furry things are in backfield again. As a child I only knew I should never look directly at them, the same way I knew not to look at the sun. It was wrong. It would hurt later on. My grandfather called them underground mutton – the first time I heard the phrase I laughed, and he didn’t. I guess that means it’s okay to eat them. That it’s okay to roast and spit them but never see them. As an adult I learnt the fear behind the superstition – my home is always on the brink of slipping, because long ago we built mines where we shouldn’t. And, like always, nature far outshone the humans: the furry things would run before the rockfalls, the men would disappear beneath them. So when they skipped in fields en masse, bobtails flashing, we would know that somewhere below ground people were trapped, were crushed, were suffocating. We would know that when the underground mutton set to dancing, the Earth was eating the miners.