Power The last time the electricity failed, we watched through the window in settling dusk as vans rumbled into the field next door and workers in yellow tunics gathered by the telegraph pole like pilgrims. Floodlights, like artificial moons, cast the grass in a white sheen. One worker shimmied up, others rapt beneath, mumbling what looked like prayers. No sudden blaze, but as they … Continue reading Two poems by Andrew Forster