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Author: And Other Poems

‘Clay’ by David Pollard

October 6, 2015 ~ And Other Poems

Clay im Camille Claudel Clay is its own reward for all the time it takes to work on the explicit touch of skin on skin’s remembrance in the eye and the delight of re-appearance in its own image that might breathe again all the quick light and salamander air of its eternity and judgement and … Continue reading ‘Clay’ by David Pollard

‘Good things happened on that day also’ by Elizabeth Barrett

October 2, 2015October 2, 2015 ~ And Other Poems

Good things happened on that day also Through a crowded carriage window as it pulled away, a glimpse of my daughter. Later that day a drizzle of sun like ginger honey on the Dales. From a distant train a trail of steam hemming a seam of sky. The village shop where I bought curd tart … Continue reading ‘Good things happened on that day also’ by Elizabeth Barrett

‘Harvest’ by Isabel Galleymore

September 29, 2015September 29, 2015 ~ And Other Poems

Harvest After stripping the branches of berries the robin held a handful of seeds in her stomach: the robin carried a tree – in fact she secretly sowed a whole forest – a store of bows and arrows and shields. Years found the bird had planted a battle, her tiny body had borne the new … Continue reading ‘Harvest’ by Isabel Galleymore

Two poems by Colin Will

September 25, 2015 ~ And Other Poems

Blame Dr Beeching Trains no longer ran on the branch line at the end of our road, and the station had burned down years before. So your threat to throw yourself off the footbridge was a gin-inspired gesture even I saw through. It was true, that after months of trying, I had given up on … Continue reading Two poems by Colin Will

‘Transformations’ by Josephine Dickinson

September 22, 2015September 22, 2015 ~ And Other Poems

Transformations Where is the entrance to the mine? There is no answer. Water flows down from the top. The bank crumbles into the washing hall. The shepherd on his quad bike with his three dogs disappears up the dusty track. A dry stone wall retreats up the Blackburn's opposite bank. Grass grows on the wall … Continue reading ‘Transformations’ by Josephine Dickinson

‘Mal’ by Anita Pati

September 18, 2015September 18, 2015 ~ And Other Poems

Mal Them dogs won’t touch us three. On Pendle Hill, no wind can whip us, no brack of clouds from Chorley pall us. Look. Dogs here are bogbounce happy, kiddies snuffing balls and whatnot near Malkin, families tripping from the corrugated towns. They skirl around me, my own dog Whistler: springer spaniels, border collies, Sunday … Continue reading ‘Mal’ by Anita Pati

‘Lost and Found at the Palacio de Peña’ by Jean Atkin

September 15, 2015 ~ And Other Poems

Lost and Found at the Palacio de Peña A golden dome and battlements bulge out of mist. February: the stucco sweats with moss. We ‘re all alone in a cloudy court on wet-shined chequered tiles. Tangled small rooms are crammed with chairs and dusty letters, pen nibs and little mirrors. Later, by a cracked glass … Continue reading ‘Lost and Found at the Palacio de Peña’ by Jean Atkin

Two poems by Stephanie Green

September 11, 2015 ~ And Other Poems

Two poems from Flout   Wind Dog A half-bitten smile, a hesitant kiss, a hand let slip —Windoge, vindauga, wind-eye: the wind is not content only to have a voice. Without sun, without rain, it cannot see or be seen. Not a black hole into which everything is sucked, but an iris flexing. Note: ‘Wind … Continue reading Two poems by Stephanie Green

‘Snow Country’ by Dom Bury

September 8, 2015September 8, 2015 ~ And Other Poems

Snow Country     Natquik   Dawn over a white field. A fresh mantle of foot deep snow             and two            greying silhouettes   talking       haltingly, moving       haltingly against the tree-line             against the … Continue reading ‘Snow Country’ by Dom Bury

Three poems by Tania Hershman

September 4, 2015March 22, 2021 ~ And Other Poems

Body I saw my mother's heart today. She pressed up against the machine while, a few feet away I watched it load on the computer screen. Is that...? I asked. The radiologist immune to the novelty of inside views, nodded. I'd helped my mother get undressed, seen for the first time the vest she wore … Continue reading Three poems by Tania Hershman

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