More Poetry in Horses

City Horses by Alan Buckley Cutting across to the Abingdon Road westwards from the towpath, I walk along an unfamiliar track. A soft green lung reveals itself. Along three sides trees flourish, framing the view; like a stage’s deception, that makes a theatre disappear as it draws the audience in. Horses are gathered in the middle. They trim the blades meticulously, or snuffle the late … Continue reading More Poetry in Horses

‘Gravity’ by Alan Buckley

  Gravity by Alan Buckley The aerialist swings up and out, beyond the proscenium arch. She reaches the dead point of pure weightlessness, hair rippling outwards, lets go of the corde volante. We catch our breath: for a heartbeat body and rope are floating apart, electric air between them. Later, she’ll smile – Whatever you choose to think, I cannot fly. I fall professionally – … Continue reading ‘Gravity’ by Alan Buckley