Three poems by Gillian Prew

  Birds/Untitled October/ a thousand gusts unpick the leaves. Bird/and bird moored to the black-knot trees tails like rudders in harsh water/ wings wrapped featherweight sails. Paired/ they wait the length of their bond/they wait for a shift in the cold as day darkens barely into evening. The edge of rain is ahead it appears/it sounds and the world weeps/ it bursts.     A … Continue reading Three poems by Gillian Prew