How to tell your son he has no friends You will get the first bit wrong: he won’t be able to meet your eye. In the dark, you can hold his hand and stroke his hair. Forget the things you said this morning. Forget the things you said this morning. Take him to the pool … Continue reading Two poems by Natalie Shaw
Author: And Other Poems
‘Still’ by Marie Naughton
Still On the third day I woke to his weary face, watching from an armchair by the hospital bed. You know how dreams have boldness that melts to uncertainty, the minute you put words to them? I blurted my epiphany –– we’ve fallen through a gap in the language –– as if that was that, … Continue reading ‘Still’ by Marie Naughton
‘L’Esprit de l’Escalier’ by Fiona Larkin
L'Esprit de l'Escalier I'm virtually bilingual. My adopted tongue's l'esprit de l'escalier, belated repartee. My adopted tongue's effortlessly en retard, belated repartee spins a fluent ghost. Effortlessly en retard, my next riposte's a wraith, another fluent ghost, she whispers down the hall. My next riposte's a wraith, she twirls around the newel, she whispers down … Continue reading ‘L’Esprit de l’Escalier’ by Fiona Larkin
‘Clay’ by David Pollard
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
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
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
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
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
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
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
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